A Shadow over Stormreach [IC, 3.5, Eberron]

[GrassyGnoll]

"And I thought I needed humanoids," Tydameira groans.

"Come back later. You're an interesting 'forged, most definitely. Maybe I can teach you something about 'expression'. Something I find organics take great consideration with when valuing justice."

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"Trak, Trak, Trak. What's he move?," the halfling looks up with heavy eyes. He's wearing a dark brown leather jacket over a fine brown linen shirt. The halfling's hair is mussed noticeably from where his hands were resting on his temple.

"And for that matter, who the hell are you? I don't give information to freeloadin' pirates," he adds. There's an unsettling emphasis emphasis on 'freeloadin'.

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"Heh. Why not ask him yourself? He's holed up there," the priestess points back to a home just across the temple, "Good luck prying him from his patrols and figures. The man takes his position as militia head awful seriously."

"He does a well enough job at keeping our shadows deficient in darkness," she light-heartedly dismisses Shiver and Natalya, "Lighten up, you're in Grindstone, we take care of our own."

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The interior of the Wavecrest Tavern is by no means shabby. Not too well lit, but not shabby either. By a sea-green window two half-giants hang over a dozen empty flagons. Misha will note a halfling eying their pockets, but apparently without the guts to dip them. Behind the bar a muscular black man with an eyepatch mixes a raw egg and small jar of red beads into one unsavory-looking chaser for a drow. Two more humans in leather armor and with nonplussed expressions on their faces stow their conversation when they see Misha enter the establishment.

The barkeep taps a pint of ale for Misha and puts out his hand. "2 silver," he says, "Gold if you wanna hear anything useful."

The drow takes interest at that. "Really, Sigmund?," the drow looks between you and the man, "He's fresh, but he doesn't look stupid. Let him say some more before milking him."

[Wiz]

Raven

The white wizardly type shakes his head, "I'm not asking to read your files or the harbor master's log, and I'm no pirate. I'm sure that a pirate could make very little out of the information of when or if one particular ship docked sometime in the past two months. Matter of fact, it's pirates I'm worried about... since my friend said he would meet me here and he hasn't." He looks worried, "But I'm no freeloader, and I'd gladly pay you for your trouble getting down the relevant books and checking for me, I'm sure it's well outside your normal duties." He places a platinum piece on the desk, "A measure of my concern for a friend, my thanks for your kindness, and of course, your valuable time. I don't even need to know exactly when he docked or how long he stayed, just if he did at all... You can call me Dove, and I believe he runs a... oh... what's it called... one of those large double-hulled, round-bellied boats... ah... ships. He's always after me to call it a ship."

[Toliudar]

Tophi

The shifter woman nods with a cautious smile.

That's doubly kind of you, Missus. For the information, and for the reassurance. You some kind of spokeswoman for the neighbourhood, then?

[Defiant]

"Ah, thanks for the info. I'm Atlas Thorn of House Deneith. What might your name be?"

[GrassyGnoll]

"Well, old man," the halfling swipes the platinum coin, looks it over, and pockets it.

"OY, THAD! GET IN HERE!" he barks up a staircase at the back, "Name's Zin by the way. Harbormaster Zin."

An orc with extraordinarily bad posture slogs down the stairwell. Before he can say anything Zin cuts him off, "This fine individual wants a look at our records, and he's definitely not a pirate. Look up a Captain Trak of a 'White Breeze'."

Thad nods and gestures for Raven to follow him. On the second floor is a greater mess of charts and ledgers, thankfully contained to shelves. The orc pulls out, rolls out, and discards several charts before getting to the one he was looking for.

"Ur boy, 'E 'ire 'im a sahuagin or wot? Sayz 'es possed ta be 'ere tree dayz back."

Wiz

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Where's this guy mentioned in your backstory? I can't seem to find him in the PMs.

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"Local herbalist and Seeker of the Blood, Berrinessa," she replies.

"I'd be charmed if you joined us at Rosewood or sampled my wares," Berrinessa indicates the temple, "If you're Drago's friends I'm sure I could give you a 'protectors of the peace' discount."

[Wiz]

Raven

Dove looks over the charts in confusion, "I was trying to find out if there's any record of his arrival any time in the last two to three months. Would that be in the harbor master's logs or on these charts?"

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He's not in my background... I made up the name just now. I'm not expecting they will find him since Raven thought up his name, and the ship, just now... I'm trying to get a chance to "read" the last two months of the harbor master's logs to see if there's any information that correlates with other information I may find about changes in the city.

[Defiant]

"That would be wonderful, but perhaps another time. I hear Drago is rather punctual, and thus would likely expect us to be the same. If you'll excuse me..."

After excusing himself, Atlas starts looking around the market for any store that sells wines, in order to go in at once and inquire about prices.

[GrassyGnoll]

"Uuuh, iunno. Oi'll go ax 'im. Unyting elz?," the orc lugs downstairs.

Raven is left to his own devices upstairs. He'll note the shelves are labeled 'Lhazaar', 'Khorvaire', and 'Sarlona'. Each have about five ledgers which look to have been recently opened and awaiting refiling.

Wiz

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Well played, well played. You've just stricken an NPC with illiteracy. Scholar's touch as you'd like, it's not likely he'd even recognize what you're doing, beyond 'magic gubbins'.

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Atlas ducks hack into the bazaar and quickly stumbles upon a stall hocking spirits.

The fat man pulls a bottle out from under the counter and shakes it a little.

"Got kuryeva-flavored wine or wine-flavored kuryeva. Five silver either way, what'll it be?"

[Defiant]

"What's kuryeva??" Atlas asks befuddled.

He also examines the wine bottle for a seal: any kind of seal that would prove that its freshness (that it has not been opened).

He then turns to his companions.

"Might I borrow 2 silver pieces from one of you? I seem to have spent naught but every copper piece save 30 for this Mithral armour..." he says as he motions to it.

[GrassyGnoll]

"Never heard of kuryeva?," the merchant leans back a bit. There doesn't look to be a seal on the bottle. As he takes a closer look Atlas can tell the stuff is at least 30 proof by the smell.

"It's berry gin, big stuff over here. It'll get ya drunk."

[Defiant]

"That's good and all, but you got anything with a seal on it? I'm rather particular about my wine, and I'd like some assurance that it's hasn't been subject to anything unsanitary during transportation."

LordOfTheDucks

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I am telling a half-truth. I would indeed be concerned about such a possibility, but it's not why I'd like to find something with a seal on it.

Bluff: (1d20+18)[34]

[Wiz]

Raven

Dove makes some mumbling moves and gestures and goes over to the shelves... he touches some of the books as if going through and looking for something in particular.

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There are several ways to guess this, since Raven can Scholar's Touch five books and there are 15 of seeming interest. I know Khorvaire best, so it seems more than likely I should read more of those ledgers... on the other hand, the thing that is stumping the Baron would also be more likely to be something he's had less contact with... so going with this thought Raven will "read" the last two from Sarlona and Lhazzar and the last book from Khorvaire.

[Lycar]

Shiver

Shiver just watches Atlas wander off and looks at Tophi for guidance, trying to sneak a peek at the things happening behind Berrinessa every now and then.

Lycar

[Toliudar]

Tophi

Tophi places a hand on Shiver's shoulder as she watches Atlas depart to go into a wine shop. She shrugs slightly.

She shifts to focus on Natalya, her voice a low growl.

So, you met this guy before? You're good to lead this chat, or is pretty-boy doing that?

[GrassyGnoll]

The Khorvaire ledger looks to be in order. Most of the captains are supplying the Forgelight district with metal or mechanisms and hauling back kuryeva. The loads from Lhazaar are also tallied correctly, if a bit more disturbing. Among the furs and raw trade goods are items you recognize to be spell focuses and reagents.

Sarlona's ledgers are off, but only by twenty pounds. While such a discrepancy would usually be unremarkable, it's consistent. Every ship from Sarlona is twenty pounds lighter at the weight-in in Stormreach than when it embarked.

Wiz

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Knowledge (arcana) check to identify what the reagents are for. Yes, I realize I ended a sentence with a preposition, whoever made that rule is a jag off.

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The fat merchant looks over Atlas.

"Your not kidding are you?," he squints, "Well let me go down to the cellar and pick out a fine year for three silver."

The man's stall has a rack behind it, but not with anything resembling wine stocked in it. His expression lets on that he's being sarcastic.

"I'll fill ya 3 silvers worth of the 'vintage' kuryeva and you'll not make a fuss over how it's damn well bottled. How's that sound?"

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"Me? Converse? I haven't had to speak with anyone outside Atur University for... years," Natalya responds in her standard airy wheeze.

The necromancer picks nervously at her already smudged uniform.

"If it wasn't for Jolan. I-I'd be... I'd be in the Necropolis of the Valiant if it weren't for him."

[Defiant]

Atlas

Atlas breathes a conceding sigh and reaches into his pouch for his money.

"Very well, I'll take it."

[GrassyGnoll]

"Pleasure," the merchant hands over a bottle filled two-thirds to the top with the strong smelling red liquid.

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Now would be a good time as ever to 'contingent' our way over to Drago.

[Defiant]

Atlas

Atlas proceeds back to where he left his companions, and takes them to where the priestess claimed Drago was holed up.

[Wiz]

Raven

The old white wizard, Dove, turns to await the return of the half-orc and ponders some of this new knowledge.

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Knowledge (arcana): (1d20+12)[30]

[Icewalker]

"I care not for any 'sense' of justice put forth by the living. I have learned my own path, and I know just how evil the organics can be."

[GrassyGnoll]

Thad arrives shortly.

"Zin sayz 'Uz mukkin about, now kick out dat ol' git or oi'll krump ya good.' U ruddy?"

Wiz

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The reagents are for potent necromantic rituals. Several of them are related to the upkeep of vampires.

Oh and Thad is full-on orc, not half.

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The lot of you enter a neurotically tidy house. The door is answered by a tidy looking young man in chainmail. Another armored man sits at a table in the back eating a late breakfast over a map of Grindstone. He's middle-aged and seemingly preoccupied with his eggs.

"Visitors? Favors?," the man in the back looks up, "Or any number of things to distract me from my guards' morning rounds?"

Drago pic

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Icewalker

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If you're headed to the Marketplace give me a Spot/Listen check.

[Defiant]

Atlas

Atlas moves in gracefully with a slight neutral smile on his face.

"Greetings. I am Atlas Thorn of House Deneith," he says and then proceeds to also introduce his companions who came with him.

"I come on behalf of Merrix. But before we get to business, let's relax a little," he reaches into his bag and puts the bottle of wine on the table, and then sympathizes "I'm sure you must be exhausted keeping track of everything!"

Before Drago gets a chance to reply, Atlas quickly adds "It's family tradition that I wouldn't come empty-handed," looking a bit disappointed over the bottle, "This was the best I could find in your bazaar. Now, I understand that you have no reason to trust me at this point, so I shall take the first sip."

He pauses, and then magnanimously decrees, smiling, "So, shall we have a drink then?"

[GrassyGnoll]

Drago flattens out the edge of his map and motions for the man at the door to take the bottle.

"Boy, perhaps you're unfamiliar with the workings of a militia. I don't relax on duty, I'm on duty so others may relax," he stuffily answers.

"Spit it out. The only thing I don't find contemptible of that old noble is his urgency and it's a smart man that plays to his strengths."

Drago takes a look over Atlas' shoulder and at the remaining party. While he doesn't look thrilled to have shifter visitors, he looks most off put that he has a Corpse Collector for a guest.

[Wiz]

Raven

The old man looks upset and outraged, "Mucking about? Just by looking at your bookshelves?! I haven't taken down a single chart or used these old eyes to read a word of your ledgers. I've never been so insulted!" He storms to the stairs and goes down them, "I'm going to have a word with an influential friend or two about how employees are chosen for important posts at this harbor!" With a sweep of his white cloak he goes out the door.

[Defiant]

Atlas

Atlas readies himself for a massive attempt at diplomacy. By this time, he has extended his Motivate Charisma aura to his companions as well... just in case one of them decides to speak.

"Very well then. I understand you are a busy man, so I won't waste any more of your time," he then quickly adds quietly as an aside, "feel free to keep the wine as a gift."

"Merrix would like you to turn a blind eye to anything that might happen regarding the Black Freighter," he states in a matter-of-fact tone, and continues "He would be very appreciative of such a favour, and is ready for your terms to be given to his associate Channa."

"I have a different proposal. It may sound a little crazy, but bear with me..." he lightly smiles and gives off a facial expression showing confidence and trustworthiness.

"Imagine if I came back to Merrix and told him that you agreed to this favour asking nothing in return." He pauses to let the idea sink in. "You might not get whatever compensation was planned, but you'd get something much greater in return. Imagine how... appreciative... Merrix will be, should you agree to his requests and not bother to demand something in return." He looks Drago straight in the eyes.

"Friends are a very valuable commodity. Oh, sure, you might not like him... but you don't need to. What you need to know is that, almost certainly, Merrix is going to see you in a higher light after the fact. Should you need something, he will undoubtedly oblige." He then stops looking Drago so dramatically in the eyes and resumes his regular gestures.

"And dare I say, without any threat or intimidation intended, a man in your position can use all the allies that you can get. You never know what unsavoury elements might have planned, and you never know if someone that could be close to you would have the ability to warn you before it's too late." He eases off, and then continues.

"You don't have to go with my plan," Atlas diplomatically decrees, so that Drago doesn't feel too pressured, "but I want you to consider the possibility. I have no great vested interest in these matters, so I'm only telling you this to help you out. I have been in your situation quite a few times, as a Marshal and commander of Deneith forces. What you do is most certainly respectable and commendable. Imagine commanding an intricate and implied sort of respect and loyalty to those who are not even below you!"

He takes an extended pause for dramatic effect, allowing Drago to fully contemplate the idea. His next part of his speech turns out to be a little quieter... undoubtedly for added effect.

"So, what will it be? Will you take the Black Freighter off your protection as a favour to Merrix? And shall I astonish him with news that you asked for nothing in return?" Atlas backs off a little, folding his arms in while raising an eyebrow, once again staring Drago straight in the eyes.

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Diplomacy: (1d20+21)[31]

[Defiant]

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My apologies, I seem to have forgotten to count in my synergy bonus from Bluff. It's supposed to be +23 then. (so then that roll was actually 33)

[SilentNight]

Misha smiles, "A man of money, I can respect that. It's what makes the world go round. And that's why I'm here, to make some gold. I'm interested in anything useful. And I'm always looking for business partners."

[Lycar]

Shiver

Shiver stays quiet as Atlas does his thing. He's not a very talkative person himself, used to being 'talked' to in a much more physical way.

At least this time nobody is hurting anyone.

Still, Shiver can't help but fidget and look around everywhre, taking in the scenery best he can. Looking at the other guards, their equipment, their bearing and, most important, their own reactions to Atlas' little speech.

Lycar

[GrassyGnoll]

The orc is confused, no surprise there. As Raven storms out, Zin doesn't even bother looking up.

Coming out of the Harbormaster's House Raven faces out towards the bay. To his left is a street lined with warehouses, an apothecary shop, and a bar reading "Leaky Dinghy" by the sign. It leads into the fish market, which is in turn flanked by a blacksmith and Riedran embassy. To his right is the Wavecrest and a dirt road which ends in a bridge over a river feeding into the bay. Past the bridge there's a collection of hastily thrown together shacks.

The docks are getting more crowded in the late morning. A band of sahuagin crawl up a ladder connected to the pier and walk into the "Leaky Dinghy". The rest of the crowd is coming and going from the fish market.

Wiz

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Go on, Spot check. I dare ya.

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The militia head dabs off the last of his eggs with a bit of toast and chews it over.

"The Claw is waning and if anything I could use House Deneith in my pocket," Drago begins, "But I'll need some assurance aid will be coming forthwith."

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"Tokazz, wilderness guide, professional business partner," the drow turns to Misha. When he turns around, Tokazz's neck tattoo is painfully obvious. White flames beginning from the top of his chest snake their way under his chin . The drow is wearing a leather vest and studded leather pants, but not much else. A few tribal charms hang out of his hair and vest pockets. Strapped to his legs are a pair of curved long knifes.

"But you don't look to be dressed for jungle travel, mate."

"Hold it, Tokazz," Sigmund interrupts him, "Can't you see our friend here is a metropolitan fellow with more refined tastes than crawling through mud and bugs."

"Yeah, real classy. Busting kneecaps, giving curb jobs, shaking down honest barkeeps such as yourself."

"Helluva time to go into that sort of business given the mood," the proprietor ticks his head in the direction of the two men by the door, "the Bilge Rats are in."

[Toliudar]

Tophi

The shifter was used to the kind of contempt that Draco showed, and it rolled off her. The house-servant's proposal initially caught her off guard, but as she absorbed the angles he was working, she nodded with the beginnings of respect.

And knew better than to open her mouth when things were going well.