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Despite trying to keep his attention on the half-ogre in front of him, Fanter's pointed elven ears pricked up a bit as he felt like he was being watched.
At the doorman's request, Oscar gratefully hands over his pack,"Ah that would be lovely sir, thank you.". When asked about his cage, Oscar says, "I believe I can manage." He then follows the doorman to his room. A quick thank you sees the doorman off, and Oscar begins the arduous task of making sure his clothes are not wrinkled as he places them in the dresser.
Content with the state of his wardrobe, he places a cloth beneath Dorian's cage and crumbles some bread for the sleek raven to eat. Dorian disdainfully looks at the bread and averts his head as he lets out a rebellious "Kraw". Oscar smiles slightly and gently strokes the bird plumage, "I know Dorian, bread is hardly a proper meal for you. When Fanter returns perhaps he could find you some quality berries or barley. For now though, make daddy happy and just try the bread." The bird turns to look at Oscar before daintily pecking at the crumbled bread. Softly Oscar says, "That's a good boy." He then lower himself into one of the plush chairs and sighs as his built up tension begins to fade, I wonder where Fanter is. He should have been back by now, hopefully with my purse. If not....I suppose I'll have to seek some temporary employment until our destination becomes clear. He peaks at the clock, I'll rest for about fifteen minutes. Then I'll question the doorman about whether he saw where Fanter went. I just hope he is halfway presentable when I find him.
After using the famous 'Kneecap strike of pain' Felix looses interest in the fight as quickly as the big guy lost his sense of touch.
He turns around sparing a moment to answer guards...
"Finally, took you long enough. Now can anyone help me with this thug? I am not a healer."
... and crouches by the dying thug.
Spoiler
Posting now, because Felix effectively leaves the fight. If the guards try to apprehend them, he wouldn't resist.
Heal try (1d20+3)[20]
Don't think it will work again but (1d4)[3]
__________________
“No matter how subtle the wizard, a knife between the shoulder blades will seriously cramp his style.”
― Steven Brust
“Plan. Yes. Good idea. I should come up with a plan.”
― Steven Brust, Dzur
Fimble blows air out through his nose, trying to regain his breath and a sense of what's happening. He holds his hammer ready to strike the half-ogre if he tries something.
"Nice job, Felix!"
"And you, you brute. Surrender immediately and drop that club or things will not go your way!"
__________________
Spoiler
"Players may blunder through dialog with shocking ineptitude, forget the name of the country they are in, or get confused about which side they are on, but once it comes time to roll for initiative they all turn into Sun Tzu." -Shamus Young
Gwen glances back at the guards, then to the half ogre, then to the small man bleeding out. "Might have over reacted a little..." she thinks, a grimace on her face.
Thinking quickly she decides what to do, she shouts to the ogre "If you run, I will come after you, surrender!" then to the guards "I am going to check this man's wounds." she then keeping an eye on the ogre drops to her knee and checks the little man's wounds. "Jeeze I guess I over did it some." Gwen's hand shake slightly from the adrenaline as she tries to stop the smaller man's bleeding. She applies pressure on the wounds and the man looks a little better.
Grim's description barely does the room justice. Oscar sees a work of nearly obscene luxury before him. The suite consists of three rooms: a massive den with a fireplace in an ostentatiously decorated mantle, a massive rug over polished wooden floors, plump over-sized chairs adorned with pillows and a large music box with a tiny figuring of a beautiful elven bard that softly chimes a soothing tune. To the right of the door is a hat and coatrack and a bar, fully stocked with wine and exotic liquors. An assortment of chocolates awaits your attention on the counter nearby. Then, the servants quarters, also none too shabby, with a small but soft canopied bed, a wash basin, and a mirrored cupboard. And in the far side of the wall, a broad window with thick drapes opens the servants room up with some light. Three doors exist on each interior wall of the servant's room: one to the den, one to a private restroom, and one to the master's quarters. The master's quarters are breathtaking, with a massive bed, chaise lounge, a vanity, cupboard, nightstand, and inspirational artwork of men performing heroic deeds, beautiful women lounging luxuriously, and ferocious, yet graceful beasts both magical and mundane. A bowl of fruit sits on the night stand next to the bed. A door to a private washroom can be found in one corner of the room. The windows of this room are massive as well, and the thick velveteen curtains that adorn them block all of the last remaining sunlight except for a soft glow at it's rim.
Gordid's room (Deluxe room) is nice as well, but with a smaller den, no servant's quarters and a simpler bedroom. The furniture is sturdy and plush, made of fine quality wood and cloth. The bed is large and soft, and rests on an incredibly large bearskin rug. The design of the suite is entirely more rugged than the nobleman's suite, and instead of artwork, animal heads and antlers decorate the rooms, as well as display weapons (not combat worthy) which are hung high and bolted to the wall with strong bars. The windows here are smaller, but can be latched open or shuttered. After Gordid is given a moment to settle in, he hears a light knock on the door. "Your nightcap, sir," Gordid hears in muffled tones through the thick wooden door.
In the Alley:
Spoiler
"I said DON'T MOVE!" The first guard screams irately as he waves his sword threateningly at the trident wielding Paladin. "Drop the trident, stand over by the wall! Hands high!"
Felix just manages to stabilize the Small Guy's wounds before he feels the flat of a sword on his chin. "You too, fatso," Guard Two growls.
Guard 4 points his sword from gnome to half-ogre to half-elf, unsure of who to deal with first. "You shut up, you!" His voice cracks a bit as he tries to threaten the half-ogre, who snarls at the little guard.
"Wait a minute..." Guard 2 whispers below his breath. "I know this rat-faced little bastard." He pipes in as he nudges the groaning little man on the floor. "That's Percy the Pocket... and you must be Graul, his pet." He sneers as he turns his gaze to the now very irritable half-ogre. "Your supposed to stay in-"
"I SAID DROP THOSE WEAPONS THIS INSTANT OR SO HELP ME!!!" Guard 1 screams again, this time looking at everybody. Guard 4 shuffles his legs wildly, obviously startled, and drops his weapon. "Sorry, sorry..."
The other two guards glare at the youngest of them (guard 4) for a moment before readying their swords.
Fimble stands fast at the sight of the several swords at his throat. He lowers his weapon slowly and lets it slide out of his hand, while adressing the guards in a powerful voice.
"I am a paladin of the sacred Blackwing Order, and I and my friends were assaulted by this brute and his unlucky companion moments ago! We were acting in self-defense and on behalf of the poor boy on the ground. I surrender to your authority but demand that you take this criminal into custody immediately!
Spoiler
Diplomacy (1d20+3)[16]
__________________
Spoiler
"Players may blunder through dialog with shocking ineptitude, forget the name of the country they are in, or get confused about which side they are on, but once it comes time to roll for initiative they all turn into Sun Tzu." -Shamus Young
"My weapon is already on the ground. I am also a paladin but with the Elear Freedom Order. If I move towards this wall I am worried this man's bleeding will start again and he could die." Gwen shouts to the guard, keeping her eyes on the ogre.
Just the slightest whisper:
"...fatso..."
Halflings face goes blank for a moment and he turns his undivided attention to the guard. Did he just call me...
"...Fatso?"
Now his face shows shock... He really called me...
"Fatso?!"
... which quickly changes into barely contained anger.
He just stares at the guard for a while and says, his voice first full of fiery rage, getting colder with every word, to end with icy-cold hatred.
"My friend got his money stolen, we chase after the thief shouting to get your attention so you would help us! Except all of you have better things to do! First, one of you comes here and watches as these thugs try to kill a child. He just stays there and whistles, not doing anything useful. We stopped these guys, I kept both child and this thug alive, when you just keep staring and shouting. Can you see these bandages, here on the child, and here... now look at my clothes and ask yourself a question why does the bandages look like they would fit right into these holes in my tunic. And after doing all your job for you. You. Call. Me. Fatso?"
Spoiler
Hope they wouldn't put him in jail... although he would react just like that...
__________________
“No matter how subtle the wizard, a knife between the shoulder blades will seriously cramp his style.”
― Steven Brust
“Plan. Yes. Good idea. I should come up with a plan.”
― Steven Brust, Dzur
There is a tense moment of silence as the guards stand off against all who are there.
"Easy now," a hidden voice says from the shadows. "I have a crossbow trained on you and reinforcements will be here soon. I hope you'll forgive my man's harsh words. I'm sure he meant no harm. Still, you'll understand that we have a job to do. Smith, see to the boy. Wright, tend to Percy. The rest of you will need to come to the guard house. We have some questions and we need to sort this confusion out, though I can guess right now who is guilty of what. Graul, you know the truce. You never should've come back to the Core."
Graul's eyes narrow dangerously, but he says nothing as his massive club falls to the ground. Smith, the first guard on the scene goes over to the boy and checks his wounds. "He's got a crack on the head, but the halfling tended the wounds well. He'll live, but he needs to get to a healer."
"Percy's fine, surprisingly. A pity." Wright guard mumbles.
Each of them pull out tiny vials and pour them into the mouths of the ones they're assigned to care for. The two awaken, looking suddenly better, but not in great health.
"Can they walk?"
"Yeah... they're good enough to walk," grumbles Wright.
The source of the voice comes out of hiding, pointing a repeating crossbow at Graul. He's older than the others, and possesses and air that commands respect. "I assume the rest of you will come along quietly. You, however... I've got my eyes on you. Now let's take a walk. You know where the guard house is."
Oscar spends about a minute in his plush chair before heading back to his room. Oscar smiles as he reflects on his recent cruise, taking a moment to bask in the delicious opulence,Oh yes, this is more suitable for someone like myself.. He spots himself in a mirror, which he immediately approaches. A proper wash is direly need, and plus I should get this salt out of my clothes. He grabs some of his soap as he strips off his clothes. He lays them out, before muttering a few incomprehensible words. The small specks of salt that had crystallized on his black clothes fade away. He checks for lose threads before giving himself a vigorous scrubbing.
Fimble makes sure that the guards bring his weapons, before he follows suit, head held high, and the half-ogre in the corner if his eye.
Spoiler
Do we know anything about Neverwinter's view on civilian justice?
__________________
Spoiler
"Players may blunder through dialog with shocking ineptitude, forget the name of the country they are in, or get confused about which side they are on, but once it comes time to roll for initiative they all turn into Sun Tzu." -Shamus Young
Felix stares at the guard for one moment longer and then turns to the commanding officer trying to cool down. Just a stupid guard. No need for anger. No need for anger.No need for anger.
After that he is calm... mostly... and decides to follow guards orders as he doesn't want to have troubles with local law from the start.
__________________
“No matter how subtle the wizard, a knife between the shoulder blades will seriously cramp his style.”
― Steven Brust
“Plan. Yes. Good idea. I should come up with a plan.”
― Steven Brust, Dzur
They take you back to through City Core, but through the back way, where there's less foot traffic. It doesn't take long to get to the guard house, a network of three buildings, a small decorative magistrates office, a larger building where the guards and weapons are kept, and a jailhouse.
"The magistrate is going home for the evening, but the captain can handle this. Wait here." The leader walks up to the door of the jailhouse and knocks. A slot opens, "A scrap in the streets near Beggar's Nest. Graul and Percy are amongst them. Plus," he waves a hand toward the paladins, barbarian, and monk, "these guys."
The slot closes, and you hear a series of latches click, then the heavy steel door swings wide. A guard is holding the door, and you can see the captain lounging on a large cushioned chair in front of a desk. He looks up, clearly irritated by the whole thing. He sets down his quill and looks up from his paperwork, waiting quietly for an explanation.
"There was a scuffle in the streets sir. A boy was injured," "L-lets not f-forget t-that I was s-s-s-kewered l-like a p-p-pig," Percy interrupts, somewhat indignantly, receiving a whack to the back of the knees with the flat of a guard's blade for the effort.
"Quiet Percy... you'll get your chance. Anyway, my men and I came on the scene to see this lady and these gentlemen cornering Graul. We were called by Smith's whistle."
The captain looks at the group, then at the guard who was speaking. "Oh yeah... we found this on Graul." He drops 6 coin purses, one of them you recognize as Oscar's.
The captain, looks back at Graul with a raised eyebrow, "Back to cutting purses again, are we?" "Found 'em," Graul grunts. "I was on me way to turn 'em in to the guards. Tha's why we were in Core in tha' firs' place."
The captain doesn't look convinced as he raises his hand to silence the half-ogre. "Alright," he says, looking from person to person. He looks at the lead guard and sighs, "Ayden, do these people know each other?" The lead guard shrugs, "I believe so. The halfling believes one of these purses belongs to a friend of his. Either all these people are victims of Grual's handiwork, or they were helping someone retrieve a purse. The gnome and the girl claim to be paladins."
"Alright," the captain replies in a long-suffering tone. "I believe introductions are in order. Well start with you." He looks squarely at Felix.
"And I," Fimble steps up next to Lexin and gives him a reasssuring pat on the shoulder, "am Fimble Doublebat Scrimnoodle, paladin of the sacred Blackwing Order."
He gestures towards the stolen purses and then to the first guard they met:
"And one of those purses do indeed belong to our friend, resident at the Quiet Knight's Inn, and it was I who alerted the guard. Smith, was it? To the thief's presence."
__________________
Spoiler
"Players may blunder through dialog with shocking ineptitude, forget the name of the country they are in, or get confused about which side they are on, but once it comes time to roll for initiative they all turn into Sun Tzu." -Shamus Young
Gwen struggled to keep from grumbling as they moved towards the guard house. She didn't trust the system and she was never happy about going to a guard house escorted by armed men. She mostly kept her mouth shut on the walk there to avoid making things worse.
When Percy mouths off about being skewered she glares at him. Her eyes like lasers set to destroy.
When everyone's eyes move to Gwen waiting for her introduction she breaths deeply. Do not insult their laws, do not insult the system... She reminds herself and flips the switch, convincing herself to play nice with the guards rather then spending her first night in Neverwinter in a jail cell. A sparkle works its way into her eyes as she becomes "Good girl Gwen" totally not "chaotic force fighting the system", she stands straight and pulls her shoulders back and she looks the guards in the eyes slowly going from one to another as she speaks. "I am Gwendolyn Bennett from the Moonshae Isles, I am with the Paladin order Elear Freedom. We came landed here today after escorting a ship across the sea. While we were heading to the Quite Knight Inn the child lifted the purse off our associate. I went after the child to get it back, and to find out why someone so young would be a pick pocket already. When I caught up with him the big blighter took the purse from the boy and knocked him out. Then charged Fanter. I warned the two men to stop but they didn't so I charged the little one, Percy I think is what you said his name was. Of course you guys know the story from there. I wasn't really looking for a quiet night in, but I certainly wasn't expecting to end having a simple coin purse recovery getting so out of hand like this."
The captain looks at each of you as you speak, listening intently, then he turns to the boy cowering in the corner. "Is that true lad? Did you steal that man's purse?" The boy, bottom lip trembling, nods his head slowly. "Speak up, boy. Which one?"
"A-all of them... sir," he responds timidly, and with shuddering breath. The only sign of surprise the captain offers is a slight twitch of his eyebrow as he turns his stern gaze onto Percy. "This your handiwork?" Percy clenches his jaw and tries to return the glare, but remains silent. "I don't have to ask nicely."
"Y-you w-w-won't believe m-me w-w-w-when I say 'n-no' anyway. I've n-never m-m-met the l-lad." Percy responds spitefully.
The captain sighs and runs a hand through his graying hair. "Well then let's start with what we can verify," He begins scribbling some notes on various sheets of paper. "I've heard of the Waterdeep Lynn's. Merchant family, right? They passed through here recently on their way to Luskan for Scrimshaw trade. I'm not familiar with the Kramshaw Monastery, but that lines up with their story of their son being a monk. And you do look a bit like your father," he gestures in a circular motion around his face, "in... the face... a bit." Then he looks at Fimble. "The Blackwing Order I've heard of. Legends say they ride giant bats, though I've never seen one pass through Neverwinter." He hands his notes to the sergeant, who passes them off to the various guards, who bow stiffly and shuffle out the door. "As for you, Madam Bennett, we owe much to the Paladins of the Moonshae. But I can't condone your soldiers running rampant in our streets skewering petty pickpockets like Percy here. This isn't some lawless wilderness. This is Neverwinter, and this is my jurisdiction. I'll expect you to act accordingly. Vigilantes make the citizens of this city nervous, and I'll not have our guards looking like impotent fools just because the Elear have a disciple in town. I'll be reporting this incident to the leader of your order. If I hear of one more outburst like this, I'll have your captain retrieve you from the Peninsula." His face remains calm as he speaks, but his knuckles go white as he speaks. He pauses to breathe.
"I've sent my men out to verify some things. Once that's settled you're free to go. Except you two." He points at Percy and Graul. "I've got a few more questions for you." He turns to a guard standing in the back of the room. "Officer Cooper, please take the lad into the guard shack and get him a cup of water."
Back at the hotel, Terlew looks at her room with extreme disappointment. "Only able to afford the standard room..." she mutters, fingering her not particularly full pouch deep in the folds of her robes. "Why couldn't I afford something more fun!"
She sits on the bed, pondering for a short time, dragging her finger in meaningless circles on the blankets like a bored child. "I suppose there's always the Dragon's Den tonight with Gwen and the others!"
__________________ Christmas is a busy time for everyone; expect heavily reduced posting until a few days after the new year with my apologies.
Current characters:
Spoiler
Kin Lescelyn, Evil Human Evoker and Fireball Enthusiast.
Why did the duck with the tin lip? Because the higher they fly, the fewer!
Felix ignored the suggestion too focused on other information.
"Father was here, and went to Luskan? When was it? Maybe I will meet him on his way back, or something..."
__________________
“No matter how subtle the wizard, a knife between the shoulder blades will seriously cramp his style.”
― Steven Brust
“Plan. Yes. Good idea. I should come up with a plan.”
― Steven Brust, Dzur
Looking back to Felix, the captain says, "Not but three days ago, if I recall, Mister Lynn." The young guard comes running back and bows, handing some paper to the captain. The captain reads it and dismisses the guard.
He stands up, sliding his chair out loudly. "If you'll excuse me, I have some questions for the boy. This..." he looks down at his notes "Arceneau you speak of is being notified that his purse has been retrieved and safely being stored here. Your stories check out, so you are free to leave. However, I should remind you that while your intentions may have been good enough, I'd thank you not to engage in skirmishes on our city streets, or next time it'll be a night in the jail or worse."
He stops Percy as he begins walking toward the door. "Not you, Percival. You and Graul know the rules. Take cell three until I hear from Officer Wright."
Fanter nods, glad he wouldn't have to embarrass his employer by spending his first night in Neverwinter in jail with the common hoodlums. He adjusts his glasses and turns to address his companions.
"Thank you all for assisting me with this minor mishap right off the boat. If it's all the same to you, however, I believe I shall stay here with Master Arceneau's purse until he comes to retrieve it. Unless, of course, the Guardsmen here could be persuaded to let me take it back to him?"
Oscar had just been considering whether a nice glass of wine was in order, when he heard a knock at the door. "Ah Fanter, I'm glad you re...", but to his surprise the doorman informed him that an officer was in the lobby. He opens the door and steps out into the hall.
"Thank you for informing me Arthur. I believe I will receive him in the lobby. Please tell the gentleman, that I apologize for the delay and that I will be there shortly." Oscar then steps in and gently closes the door. He briskly walks over to Dorian's cage placing a cup of chilled water in the cage, "Now Dorian I expect you to behave while I am gone." He then places a sheet over the cage and goes done to the lobby to greet officer. He approaches and with a slight bow Oscar says, " Greetings officer, I am Oscar Arceneau. I believe you wished to speak to me. May I ask your name sir?"
Not one to spend any extra time in guard houses Gwen flashes a polite smile at the guards as she leaves the guard house. She stretches her arms up to the sky with a relieved sigh outside. When her comrades join her outside she gives them a wide smile and put her arm around the shoulder of the closest, tall enough one and says "Okay so who is ready to get a bite to eat and then go to the Dragon's Lair for some jocular times."
"Huh, so not long, then, thank you for that information, sir."
He says, but his attention is slowly turning elsewhere.
"Did you say we should get some food? Brilliant idea, I would just prefer to stop by some tailor on the way... my clothes don't look that well after tearing off some bandages..."
Spoiler
Is it early enough so the shops are still open?
__________________
“No matter how subtle the wizard, a knife between the shoulder blades will seriously cramp his style.”
― Steven Brust
“Plan. Yes. Good idea. I should come up with a plan.”
― Steven Brust, Dzur
Fanter favored Felix with a small smile, gesturing to his pack.
"I can take care of that for you, sir, if you don't mind. I come prepared for minor emergencies like this, and I've some experience with a needle and thread."
Fimble gives a short salute, more well-meaning than soldierlike, and turns to Fanter.
"If you don't mind, I'll keep you company while you wait. I'm not one to leave a matter till it's finished."
Fimble looks around the guard house, getting a feel of the place. As he does so, he places each weapon in its rightful place, checks and double-checks his belt and sheath and also the condition of the weapons he used in the fight, after which he continues to check every part of his equipment. Every move seems very controlled and he mumbles on and off under his breath, sometimes jerking his head up and smiling politely to the other people in the room.
__________________
Spoiler
"Players may blunder through dialog with shocking ineptitude, forget the name of the country they are in, or get confused about which side they are on, but once it comes time to roll for initiative they all turn into Sun Tzu." -Shamus Young
" I would be very grateful for your help."
He says with a wide smile.
Then he turns to answer Gwen and starts following her to the exit.
"Not really, I am not a merchant anymore, although I still know some tricks, I think I would stay here and try to find some work with you my friends. Although my father would be coming back in few weeks, it would be nice to meet him here..."
__________________
“No matter how subtle the wizard, a knife between the shoulder blades will seriously cramp his style.”
― Steven Brust
“Plan. Yes. Good idea. I should come up with a plan.”
― Steven Brust, Dzur
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