The Black Shingle Fiasco

[Marlowe]

Avita had thought her request for Unholy water would have been a conversation-stopper; but Eric openly asking for money beats it. "Drow", she says simply. "Even if you did donate all your coin to the Royal Society For Prevention Of Cruelty To Balors, Chain Devils, And Young Conservatives, you should be able to trade in your hand crossbow for fifty. You should get another twenty from your share of what we got off the Demonoids. That's seventy."

"You should be able to get a short bow for thirty, some cold iron arrows for two, a cold iron dagger for four, and thieves tools for thirty. Get a belt pouch as well. That'll still leave you with enough to buy me dinner tonight so that I may tell you I'm not that into you."

[JNAProductions]

Silvet chuckles, but also fishes around in her pockets for more coin. He IS our ally. If he's better equipped, we're better equipped.

[Bartmanhomer]

"Sure Avita." Eric speak to the shopkeeper. "Shopkeeper, I'll like to sell my hand crossbow with my 37 bolts. How much will you be willing to sell?"

[YossarianLives]

"I'm going to need something a little... heftier," Andras says, fishing in her pockets and pouch for 20 gold coins that she slides across the desk. "Would you have a cold iron halberd to spare?"

"Certainly. We just received a new shipment."

Avita looks thoughtful. "This is going to be an odd request, and even if you have it I'm not sure if I need it right now." Her eyes go up to the ceiling and then back again. "Is it possible to get UNholy water? Cursed water? Hydrogen Dioxide suffused with negative energy?" She looks around to check everyone's reaction. "Healing potions and spells don't work on me; but that stuff might."

"We have something like that. It'll cost you 25 gold pieces," says the quartermaster while looking over Avita, perhaps trying to figure out how undead she is.

"Sure Avita." Eric speak to the shopkeeper. "Shopkeeper, I'll like to sell my hand crossbow with my 37 bolts. How much will you be willing to sell?"

Valus examines the crossbow for a moment, then says "I'll give you 50 gold for the crossbow and 5 silver for the bolts."

While this bartering is going on, you notice a tall, thin man in black silks watching your group intently from across the street, while sipping something from a metal flask shaped like a fish. He's watching you very intently. It seems he's not paying attention to anything else, in fact.

[Bartmanhomer]

"Let's me do the math here: 5 times 37 is 185 sliver. OK shopkeeper you got yourself a deal." Eric sells his hand crossbow and the 37 remaining bolts to Valus.

[Marlowe]

Avita gives the quartermaster her best Wednesday Addams stare. "That shall suit my purposes", she deadpans, and hands over the cash.

Checking the Unholy water with a finger to make sure it actually IS Unholy water, she turns back to the party. "Sarim, if you could do me a favour? I'm right on the point of getting slowed down by the weight of things. If you could carry a flask of oil for me-" She removes her lamp-oil flask from her backpack and hands it to the Dworc.

"Now; everyone else. Like I said regular healing magic doesn't work on me. I can heal myself fine as long as I'm conscious, but if I get put down it could be hairy. SO. This stuff-" she holds up the flask of water "-SHOULD work on me a bit like a healing potion. If I get hit hard just pour it over me. And Silvet, I think it would be a really good idea if you didn't spill any on yourself."

Making sure everyone's looking at her, she tucks away the vial in her belt-pouch.

[JNAProductions]

Gotcha. Also, you, over there, Silvet calls out to the man in black. What are you looking at?

[Kushina43]

Checking the Unholy water with a finger to make sure it actually IS Unholy water, she turns back to the party. "Sarim, if you could do me a favour? I'm right on the point of getting slowed down by the weight of things. If you could carry a flask of oil for me-" She removes her lamp-oil flask from her backpack and hands it to the Dworc.

Sarim nods and takes the flask from her. "Bit on the weak side if you can't carry a flask.." He chuckles and pockets the flask. "But yeah, I ain't got a problem with that."

He then turns back to the shopkeep. "Big ol' cold iron axe is all I'm lookin' fer. I'm sure I got the cash."

[YossarianLives]

Valus sends a couple of couriers off into the warehouse, who return a few minutes later carrying your new supplies.

Hearing Silvet's shout, the tall man ambles across the street toward you, tucking his flask into his coat. "I am a scholar, a historian," he says hesitantly, eyeing your weapons, clearly uncomfortable. "You all look suitably fierce for my purposes." His eyes focus on Sarim, and widen in surprise, his eyebrows shooting up. "Especially that fellow there. Come visit me one evening. We can have dinner together, get better acquainted, maybe talk business. I have apartments in the Artificer's Quarter, not far from here." Slipping a piece of paper with an address on it to Eric, he begins to slip back into the crowd.

[Marlowe]

Avita watches the fellow go with narrowed eyes. "A gentleman, a scholar, a snappy dresser, and very possibly-" she glances at Eric, "-an incredibly poor judge of character. Well, shall we report that business with the...Handymen-" she puts a hand to the top of her head and makes a "grasping claw" gesture, "-to somebody? Seems like the sort of weirdness people might like some warning thereof."

[Bartmanhomer]

Valus sends a couple of couriers off into the warehouse, who return a few minutes later carrying your new supplies.

Hearing Silvet's shout, the tall man ambles across the street toward you, tucking his flask into his coat. "I am a scholar, a historian," he says hesitantly, eyeing your weapons, clearly uncomfortable. "You all look suitably fierce for my purposes." His eyes focus on Sarim, and widen in surprise, his eyebrows shooting up. "Especially that fellow there. Come visit me one evening. We can have dinner together, get better acquainted, maybe talk business. I have apartments in the Artificer's Quarter, not far from here." Slipping a piece of paper with an address on it to Eric, he begins to slip back into the crowd.

"What's the heck is this?"

[Marlowe]

"It's a piece of paper with an address on it. His own, presumably, unless he's setting up a practical joke. Which I wouldn't rule out." says Avita, deadpan. And then she steps forward and, unless he resists, takes the piece of paper from Eric.

"Miss Silvet; if you could just hold out your shield for a second-", digging her writing materials from her belt pouch, she makes a quick copy of the contents of the note, and hands the original back to Eric.

"Now again, shall we make mention of the things we fought on the way back here? Possibly to someone who might know more about what the frell they were? Or knows someone who might?"

[JNAProductions]

"It's a piece of paper with an address on it. His own, presumably, unless he's setting up a practical joke. Which I wouldn't rule out." says Avita, deadpan. And then she steps forward and, unless he resists, takes the piece of paper from Eric.

"Miss Silvet; if you could just hold out your shield for a second-", digging her writing materials from her belt pouch, she makes a quick copy of the contents of the note, and hands the original back to Eric.

"Now again, shall we make mention of the things we fought on the way back here? Possibly to someone who might know more about what the frell they were? Or knows someone who might?"

Yes, we should. Quartermaster, Silvet says to the quartermaster, Could you direct us to whoever's in charge, locally? And thank you.

[YossarianLives]

Yes, we should. Quartermaster, Silvet says to the quartermaster, Could you direct us to whoever's in charge, locally? And thank you.

"Locally? That'd be Captain Parker, at the inn - the Apple Bush - just a few streets over. Or I can pass along a message, if you'd prefer."

[Marlowe]

"Might as well get it done ourselves", says Avita, inspecting her bowstring for frayed bits that aren't there. "Been a few messages muffed and mangled in the process o' being passed along today, and you've been very helpful already, Mister Valus." She tunrs to the group and smiles. "Shall we?"

[Bartmanhomer]

"Might as well get it done ourselves", says Avita, inspecting her bowstring for frayed bits that aren't there. "Been a few messages muffed and mangled in the process o' being passed along today, and you've been very helpful already, Mister Valus." She tunrs to the group and smiles. "Shall we?"

"Wait! I haven't sell my hand crossbow and my bolts. And I didn't buy my shortbow and cold iron arrows yet! Can't we wait a little longer so I could get all my stuff together please?"

[JNAProductions]

It's a simple report-we'll be there and back shortly, where you can pick up what you need while he gathers the actual items of purchase, Silvet says, turning to leave.

[Bartmanhomer]

It's a simple report-we'll be there and back shortly, where you can pick up what you need while he gathers the actual items of purchase, Silvet says, turning to leave.

"Ok." Eric put his hand crossbow and his 37 bolts away.

[YossarianLives]

When you arrive back at the Apple Bush, Olidar is waiting outside, fiddling with the strap of his helmet and looking anxious. "It's good that you've returned. The Captain is a bit impatient. More than a bit, I guess."

Inside the packed common room, a harried soldier directs you to Captain Parker's office, once the inn's luxury room, on the second storey. When you knock on the oak door, you hear a thump and a muffled curse. About a minute later, a hoarse voice shouts "Come in!"

Inside, a wide, middle-aged gnome with the golden epaulettes of a captain lounges in a gilded armchair, staring daggers at your party. A clear glass window, framed by dark blue curtains, lets in a beam of afternoon light, which serves to reveal the dust coating the room's surfaces. A desk laden with stacks of papers and scrolls sits forgotten in the corner. "What is it? he growls. "I have no desire to spend my days chatting to mercenaries."

[Bartmanhomer]

When you arrive back at the Apple Bush, Olidar is waiting outside, fiddling with the strap of his helmet and looking anxious. "It's good that you've returned. The Captain is a bit impatient. More than a bit, I guess."

Inside the packed common room, a harried soldier directs you to Captain Parker's office, once the inn's luxury room, on the second storey. When you knock on the oak door, you hear a thump and a muffled curse. About a minute later, a hoarse voice shouts "Come in!"

Inside, a wide, middle-aged gnome with the golden epaulettes of a captain lounges in a gilded armchair, staring daggers at your party. A clear glass window, framed by dark blue curtains, lets in a beam of afternoon light, which serves to reveal the dust coating the room's surfaces. A desk laden with stacks of papers and scrolls sits forgotten in the corner. "What is it? he growls. "I have no desire to spend my days chatting to mercenaries."

"Well aren't you a charming fellow." saying in a sarcastic tone.

[YossarianLives]

"Well aren't you a charming fellow." saying in a sarcastic tone.

The captain just laughs at Eric. "Do you have something to say, or are you just here to insult me? I assure you, I have better things to do with my time."

[Bartmanhomer]

The captain just laughs at Eric. "Do you have something to say, or are you just here to insult me? I assure you, I have better things to do with my time."

"And so are we. We just here to help. If you want any I suppose.""

[JNAProductions]

We encountered a group of children, dancing in a circle, with hands for heads. It was... Disturbing.

In addition, Silvet continues, The people in the near tower are mostly unwilling to leave their "safety"-if you have anyone more trustworthy than strangers, you might want to send them.

[Marlowe]

"Hands growing from bloody stumps in their hands; grasping blindly at each other as they danced to the beat of a bongo, naked and witless. Seriously, a bongo." says Avita deadpan. She considers the word "mercenary". Looks at the rich decor of the captains room. And says nothing else.

[YossarianLives]

We encountered a group of children, dancing in a circle, with hands for heads. It was... Disturbing.

In addition, Silvet continues, The people in the near tower are mostly unwilling to leave their "safety"-if you have anyone more trustworthy than strangers, you might want to send them.

"Hands growing from bloody stumps in their hands; grasping blindly at each other as they danced to the beat of a bongo, naked and witless. Seriously, a bongo." says Avita deadpan. She considers the word "mercenary". Looks at the rich decor of the captains room. And says nothing else.

The captain sighs, slumping in his chair. "I am familiar with these... creatures. Our demonologists say they're natives of the Abyss, but we don't know much more. Zaghifd, they're called, but the troops have taken to calling them 'children'. Wretched things."Leaping up from his chair, Captain Parker begins to pace the room's length, and pauses at the window, glancing absently at a supply wagon trundling through the streets below. Not looking at your group, he begins in a low voice. "They delight in pain and death - they don't seem to care whether they inflict it on others or experience it themselves. And the damnable drums. They adore those things. We believe it's their only method of communication."

He pauses, straightens his coat, and turns to face you, clearly fighting to maintain a straight face. "They started appearing a couple weeks after Black Shingle was cordoned off. In small groups, like the one you encountered. Always beating one of those bloody drums. They don't seem to be much threat, except in large groups, but... They make us all uneasy. And it's not just their appearance, though that alone is enough to make me lose a little sleep. The other demons seem to hate them as much as we do. Fear them, even. Drive them away from their camps, as if they're tainted. And I, for one, have no desire to learn what a demon is afraid of..."

The captain trails off, surveying your party. Listen, you're the only mercenaries I've seen who don't flee at the mention of these... Zaghifd." His tongue struggles to form the foreign word, but he plows forward. Superstitious fools! I need someone to investigate these monstrosities, and my soldiers are stretched thin enough. If you think you're up to the task, then I'd be more than grateful. The children have been appearing from three locations in Black Shingle - the other demons are pouring from a single rift, near the centre - and it may be worthwhile to visit them." The captain fumbles for a dirt-stained map of Black Shingle on his desk, and begins gesturing towards different locations. There's the old theatre - I used to go there, as a boy - they also emerge from beneath Dorellien Avenue." He marks a point on the map. "Here. And then there's..." He grimaces. ""The orphange."

Be warned, those spots are all deep within enemy territory. You'll likely have to cut your way through to them. Alternatively, if you'd rather not get yourselves killed, you could try and hunt down some information within the city. The College has an extensive library, and probably has a book or two on those bloody 'children.' Or you could try talking to an expert. There's a scholar named Harrin, lives in the Artificer's Quarter, supposed to know about these things. He denied knowing anything to me, but I'm sure he's lying. Then there's the city's mages. The warmages don't know much of magic beyond it's use for killing, but you could probably find some buffoon at the Academy of Transmutation willing to talk."

Plopping back into his chair, arrogance renewed, Captain Parker glares at you. As for the mission at the tower... Abandon it, if you like. But don't expect to get payed! We don't reward freeloaders."

[JNAProductions]

Believe me, I won't rest easy until the people in the tower are safe. But it'd be a hell of a lot easier to get them out if someone more local came with-do you know if anyone HAS left the tower, possibly before the disaster? We could find them, and bring them with to prove our goodwill... Possibly, Silvet says, thinking it through. Then again, bringing them into a warzone isn't exactly going to foment goodwill, so... I'm not sure.

Regardless, I do want to help those people, reward or no. But I'll also see about looking into these... Zaghifd, you called them? she adds, searching her memory for any knowledge on them now that she has a name.

Spoiler: OOC

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Knowledge (Arcana or Planes, whichever is more appropriate) (1d20+4)[14]

[Marlowe]

Avita shifts her gaze from the captain to the silver lady, and back again. "The tower mission is ours. We shall do it. We are simply here to pick up that which we should have been warned to have before we took off. But they are being...awkward."

"Your officer said they have something in the tower they might be loath to leave. That might have some bearing on why they're playing dolls and dandies in a frelling war zone. Is there anything you could tell us that might give us leverage? Even some sort of proof that we're acting under your authority might help. Especially if we wind up accidentally and horribly having to do something regrettable but necessary." She gets through that last on one breath and without a blink.

[Bartmanhomer]

"I don't give a rat's behind about the money, I want to help those people as well. Thank you for your cooperation captain."

[YossarianLives]

"Good to hear it." The captain pauses for a moment, perhaps in thought. "We don't know anything about the people at the outpost, but if you think it would help I can sign a warrant, telling them you've been sent my me."

[Bartmanhomer]

"Good to hear it." The captain pauses for a moment, perhaps in thought. "We don't know anything about the people at the outpost, but if you think it would help I can sign a warrant, telling them you've been sent my me."

"That's awesome. You're not so bad after all. I do apologized for my behavior earlier. I thought you were one of those captain who don't want any help for obvious reasons."