Keep on the Breland Borderlands -- PBP

[GalaGalaxia]

This thread will be used for PBP sessions inbetween "live" sessions.
[hr]

So far ... Einrich, Mewrik, and Qelster have reached "the keep". They were met with suspicion and they entered the keep. The company were informed about some goblin "trouble" in the area, and possibly the capture of a couple previously staying at the keep.

As the three have just placed their pack animals in the stables, they are now heading towards the inn for a good meal and a good night's rest.

[darkedge]

Ein stands in the courtyard, leaning on his staff, the weight of carrying his own bags seemingly a strain on his old body. His eyes scan all about, as he tries to grasp the layout of the keep around him.

[GalaGalaxia]

Qelster is looking around the keep with a keen eye, trying to determine who makes this place their home. He is also keeping an eye out for weaker areas in the walls. People seem jumpy and suspicious, but friendly, which he finds comfort in.

Mewrik is just glad that Qelster stopped talking about the stonework. As for himself, he doesn't quite trust these people. The scribe they met seemed nice, and brought a familiar looking face to the otherwise stranger-filled keep. He knows he is supposed to be here. And he would much prefer to have a nice comfortable bed to sleep in. But he does not feel as secure as he should like.

Both Mewrik and Qelster are heading for the inn. They are both hungry after their travels.

[darkedge]

Ein trails not far behind, noting where the buildings, and more importantly the people, seem to be along the sides of the streets.

[GalaGalaxia]

Qelster to the innkeeper: "A mighty joyful evening to you, good sir! Me and my companions *points to Ein and Mewrik* have recently arrived and are tired from a long journey. We would like to enjoy a warm meal and find accomodations for the night. What do you have to offer?"

Mewrik looks around for gamblers ...

[The803]

The tavern-keeper (a human male) greets the three of you with a friendly nod and jabs a thumb at a wooden sign in the common tongue. The tavern serves mugs of ale, bread, cheese, meat, and daily meals at regular (PHB) prices. The tavern isn't very busy at the moment, but the staff seems to by hard-at-work cooking and cleaning for the coming evening rush.

As for beds, the same sign indicates that you may sleep with the servants in the stables in exchange for an evening of mucking, grooming, and feeding of the animals there. The halfling-run inn next to the tavern is put forth as a finer option. It is affiliated with House Ghallanda, and is of the very highest quality, although better-suited to smaller folk than humans. There is a group sleeping area (equivalent to 'poor' quality) and common-quality rooms available at double regular (PHB) prices.

The keep's good-quality rooms are located in private apartments, but are available only to proven allies who have earned the trust of the keep's watch. There are also deluxe-quality houses available to those chosen by the watch and guard*, and a guild house for House Sivis. (See the emailed map for more details).

*(The watch polices the keep interior and maintains order; the guard keeps an eye on the surrounding wilds and drills daily for war.)

[GalaGalaxia]

Mewrik and Qelster both want a "good" meal (albeit more meat and proteins for Mewrik ... and more bread and vegetables for Qelster), and will opt for the "poor" sleeping option.

Is there gambling available?

Qelster will find a quiet corner to sit down, pulling out a book for reading after the meal.

Mewrik, on the other hand, will sit close to the bar for "easy access".

[darkedge]

As Qelster goes to leave for the corner, Ein stops him, and informs him that he will be renting a private room for the night, if Qelster should want to leave any valuables for safekeeping, and to keep his ears open for any talk about the local goblins, the warren, or the inner keep.
Ein orders himself a nice, common quality meal and sits next to Mewrik. He informs Mewrik of the same, and begins trying to strike up a conversation with the bar keep, it's always good to have a friend behind the only bar in town.

"Sso ssonny; how has the keep been for business?"

[GalaGalaxia]

Qelster: "Aye, thank you. I might have you hold on to a thing or two."
While enjoying his meal in the corner, Qelster is keeping an extra set of ears open for any conversations that might be going on. He's especially listening for uncommon languages.

Mewrik fills in to Ein's question: "Do you see a lot of travelers in these parts?"

[GalaGalaxia]

Qelster realizes that the bread is a tad dry, and instantly ponders whether casting grease would be beneficial or not.

[The803]

As he works, the tavern-keeper tells you that business is good, but also pretty grim. He warns you not to get too friendly with anyone in the guard if you don't like having your friends get killed.

The tavern-keeper also points you to another sign posted in an out-of-the-way corner. It is made up of numerous thin slats of wood, into which are carved the keep's rules. One of them explicitly prohibits gambling on events not sanctioned by the guard. The tavern-keeper explains that the only events the guard ever sanctions are wargames, jousts, and sparring matches, and that only the actual participants may wager against one another.

As you eat, the afternoon watch and guard come off duty. Qelster overhears several among the guard talking in excited tones about a "strange and unnatural" prisoner who turned itself over to them on the previous night, making wild and baseless accusations against one of the holy men currently housed within the keep. Apparently, the creature requested asylum as a House Deneith agent, and is currently being held in a dungeon cell under heavy guard.

As they are discussing this, the scribe (to whom you spoke earlier) enters the tavern and interrupts them with an announcement. The gnomes at the Sivis Guildhouse are quite concerned with this prisoner's arrival and have some questions for it, but they are unwilling to ask it in person out of concern for their safety. They are offering 60 gp and their gratitude to the one who asks the creature their growing list of questions. The asker must be literate, articulate, and capable of self-defense without bearing weapons into the dungeon. Applicants are asked to assemble at the gate to the inner bailey at midnight. The scribe casts a knowing glance in your direction as he and his guard turn to leave, and, suddenly, you have the full attention of all of the tavern-goers for the first time.

The guard from the front gate who handled your letters, now out of his armor and carrying his own chair, walks over brazenly and seats himself before you.

"Friends of Beryl come all the way from Sharn, eh? How is the little lady?"

He seems in good spirits and pronounces the name with a fondness that is audible. You're not sure, but you guess that Beryl is his nickname for your gnome patroness back at Morgrave University.

Spoiler

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She is usually very busy.

[GalaGalaxia]

Qelster, a little evasively: "Last I spoke with her in person, some moons ago, she was very busy with some new undertakings. I did send her some correspondence before journeying out, but was naturally unable to receive a reply back. How do you know her?"

Before the guard has a chance to answer, Qelster continues, using his most diplomatic and articulate voice: "I also overheard the discussion about a newly taken prisoner ... Perhaps I can be of some assistance. I am fluent in several languages, and I have a few tricks up my sleeve. *winks* Tell me more about this prisoner ... Where did he come from, and what kind of creature is he?" (Diplomacy check, if applicable: (1d20+0)[19])

Spoiler

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Qelster would very much like to gain a small name for himself within the keep. He's not necessarily vain or out for glory (realizing that receiving gratitude from those within the keep may have little bearing on contacts outside the keep), but he would really like to earn the trust of the people here. Besides, if these people know (and are friends of) Beryl, they deserve some help.

Meanwhile, Mewrik eyes Qelster as he talks to the guard. He quietly whispers to Ein: "I just don't know if I trust these people yet. I don't take kindly to being treated with unfounded suspicion. But, perhaps he gets a different vibe."

[GalaGalaxia]

Dang, a 19

[darkedge]

*To Mewrik*
Hmm, I always find a trip past those murder holes a bit unsettling, but I can't really fault the guards as grim as the situation here seems. Can't blame them for the gambling either, I'm sure they find a joust more entertaining then a game of cards. At any rate, I was thinking of trying to make a call to the dungeons, to see if they have any goblin prisoners I could get information from. I might as well follow Qelster's lead, if I can get in with him. . .
It might serve us well to get into the guards good graces, maybe he could put in a word. . .
*To the Company*
Oh, come now Qelster, can't you see the man is fresh off of duty? Youngins; always in such a rush.
*To the Guard*
Well, any friend of Beryl would be a friend of ours, how about we buy you a pint of ale? We haven't been properly introduced, Einrich Wrighten *Extends a hand* How is it you know Beryl?

[GalaGalaxia]

Qelster: "Youngin'? *snickers* Well, I will be celebrating my 137th birthday in a week's time. But, who's counting, eh? *extends hand to guard* Qelster Garnwad, at your service! And, I could tell from your looks earlier that you are not used to seeing people of my kind in these parts. Needless to say, but it needs to be said, I am used to be perceived as a stranger, not to mention, I have traveled far from my home region, but that goes without saying."

Mewrik: "And I am Mewrik Handfast. I am generally not viewed as being of a strange kind ... although I'm more used to associating with strangers in my travels. Pardon me for being cautious until ye have proven yourself. No offense meant."

[The803]

The guard stands to shake your hands in turn, finishing with Ein's, "A pleasure to meet you all. I'm guardsman Ericantos Semigent, at your service. My friends call me Eric, and buyin' me a pint is a sure way to get counted as one. As for me and Beryl, she and I were part of the reclamation team that cleaned this place up. She was much more important than me, but went outta her way to get to know each of us little people."

Once he has his ale, Eric flops into his seat and leans in over the mug, speaking with a low, conspiratorial tone. "This questioning business is intended for you three. Since you come here on Beryl's say-so, the Sivis gnomes want to see if you can do the sort of work they want. Dangerous work." He raises an eyebrow and slurps the foam off his pint. "Now I ain't had words with him myself, but they say he's claiming to be a hob-gob merk of House Deneith's from way back when; should be old and gray by now. They brought him through the gates in a horsedrawn cart, all wrapped in blankets and surrounded by guards. By the looks of it, he was tied up pretty good, but he weren't struggling or nothing. The boys that caught him say they're under orders not to talk about it, and the fella I got at about it in private looked like he'd seen something he wanted to forget; something unnatural. Rumors be going around that what we got is a Karrn skeleton made from the bones of who it's claiming to be. Whatever it is, they don't want us guards dealing with it up close and personal-like."

[GalaGalaxia]

Qelster, in response to Eric's comment about Beryl going out of her way: Yes, she has been known to do that on more than one occasion. I must say I have been on the receiving end of her kindness more than once.

Mewrik, in response to mentioning of dangerous work, in a muffled whispered tone: Dangerous? And no weapons to bring?

Qelster perks up when there is mention of someone being under orders not to talk about the capture, and about seeing unnatural things: Who would have given such an order? ... and ... "Unnatural," eh? What sort of unnatural are we talking? I would very much like to have a little chat with that boy; or his superior, for that matter.

Qelster: Well, we're certainly up for the task ... but this talk of danger and lack of weapons is a tad unnerving, as Mewrik noted. Do they just want him questioned? What if real danger breaks out? Is this fellow valuable ... alive?

[GalaGalaxia]

Spoiler

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Basically, I'm trying to find out if they are opposed to the prisoner being killed. A less fatal option is probably preferred ... but if things go sour, neither Qelster nor Mewrik will hesitate to use lethal force (in fact, they have few other options).

[darkedge]

Hmm, well from spending some time around the dredges in Sharn, I can say at least that a Deneith hired hob-goblin isn't very likely. . . I have to admit I'm curious. It is a bit dangerous to go it with just us three though. We could probably handle it, but I'd rather make certain. Perhaps we should seek out someone who could better deal with undead, without needing a weapon, I can ask around to see if anyone fits that bill, I just wish I knew for sure if we are dealing with a corpse. . . I think I'll ask around about that as well.
I suppose getting up to speed on the local goblins may have to wait for another time. Any thoughts on any of this Eric?

[GalaGalaxia]

Qelster: Well, even without weapons, I can handle an undead critter with my spells. We will just have to be smart about it.

Mewrik: And I can always grapple 'im. Or trip ... or pelt with a rock.

[GalaGalaxia]

Qelster: Well, I think we need to be careful and get all the information we need out of him first ... Do you think this hobgoblin would have any connection to the disappearances?

[The803]

Eric finishes his pint as you talk.
"Thanks for the pint, friends. Now I'd be happy to return the favor now and buy a round, but if you fellows are serious, you'll want to stay sharp. The gnomes want someone who can be ready to go tonight."

He leans in, speaking more confidentially again,
"Look, this whole business has got me curious, so if you do see this thing, whatever it is, I can promise you each an armload of pints, and more besides, for your account. I don't like being kept in the dark about nothing that comes through my gate."

Some guardsmen call out to Eric and he waves at them and stands to go.
"Something to remember before the Guild tells you otherwise: we're a team out here. We can't have the Dragonmarks playing games and keeping secrets from us if we want to do our jobs right. It is our business, whatever they tell you."

[GalaGalaxia]

Qelster: *firmly shakes Eric's hand* A pleasure to meet you, friend of Beryl's. We shall prepare ourselves for whatever this evening might bring. And, we will be sure to keep you informed. Now, where is this boy so we can talk to him?

Mewrik: So, midnight? *pats Eric on the back* I'll see you about that pint after this business is taken care of. *winks* Now I think I have worked up an appetite!

[darkedge]

Aye, when we see you later on, I'll swap some stories for what you know about the goblins in these mountains, and the couple that went missing.

[The803]

After Eric leaves you, he and the rest of the guardsmen filter out and the tavern settles down. Two richly dressed dwarves and a well-groomed shifter arrive, and the tavern staff nervously disappears into the back. The tavern-keeper whisks two pewter steins brimming with dark ale to their table. The shifter stays on his feet, taking good, long looks at everyone and audibly sniffing at the air. The dwarves nod in thanks to the retreating tavern-keeper and begin speaking quietly to one another.

[GalaGalaxia]

Qelster sharpens his senses in an attempt at overhearing the conversation. Listen check (if applicable) (1d20+0)[1]

Mewrik also attempts at overhearing their conversation. But, as Qelster does so in a careful fashion, burying his eyes into the book he brought, Mewrik nods knowingly at the shifter when their eyes meet. Listen check (if applicable) (1d20+3)[18]

Qelster looks for an opportunity at taking an extra look at the dwarves. As he notices (in the corner of his eyes) that the shifter is looking elsewhere, he carefully looks up to get a better look at who/what they are, and to guess what their business might be. Spot check (if applicable) (1d20+0)[20]

[GalaGalaxia]

Bloody "1"

[The803]

Mewrik can't understand their language.

Qelster gets a good look, but his listening catches the shifter's attention. The shifter taps one of the dwarves and points at Qelster. The dwarf nods to the shifter, who walks over to your table and jerks his head in their direction. It doesn't seem like he's asking, but it's too casual a motion to be ordering. It's more like a strongly-worded suggestion.

The quality of the dwarves' clothing suggests wealth and their bodyguard (who is also richly dressed, but in a more rugged style) suggests importance, but their bearing seems to indicate that they're not members of the watch or guard. They seem to be acting as if they own the tavern, and the tavern staff seems to be treating them that way.

[GalaGalaxia]

Without directly acknowledging the shifter or seeking eye contact with him, Qelster stands up, neatly (but nochalantly) assembles his belongings in an almost compulsive fashion, before he picks them up and looks directly into the shifter's eyes, as to say: "Well, are we going or not? I'm ready." but without speaking a word. He retains a non-expression in his face, albeit one that emanates peace and calm; and almost a hidden smile.

Spoiler

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Qelster will not let himself be bossed around. But he is also not going to step on anyone's toes or treat them disrespectfully. Generally, expect to be met with the same courtesy or behavior as is shown him. If treated with importance and respect, he will return the favor. If treated with ignorance or an otherwise demeaning fashion, Qelster is unlikely to treat you any better (although he will certainly not return rudeness or disrespect).

[darkedge]

Listen check to see if I had overheard the dwarves, 1d20(17) + 5 = 22.

OOC: What did you mean by "Are we going." Moonlit stroll, making googly eyes at the shifter? Seriously though I'm not 100% sure what you mean by that.