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Look Around You
Jan 19, 2009

You're just lucky my jaw is broken!



Elanis Dressant [sheet]

"I agree, we should depart at once." He turns to the chieftain, warmly saying, "Thank you for putting us up for the night, and for the food. I hope this is the beginning of a lasting friendship. In the meantime, we must bid you fairwell."

I'm also going to take the boots

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Stallion Cabana
Feb 14, 2012
1; Get into Grad School

2; Become better at playing Tabletop, both as a player and as a GM/ST/W/E

3; Get rid of this goddamn avatar.



Lerissa rests quietly, curled up into a ball with her tail curled around her When she gets up, she's returned to being a ball of energy instead of her previous tired self, bouncing from foot to foot. "Yes, we should hurry back, make sure everyone gets gets home, and make sure nothing else has gone catastrophically bad while we were away." She smiles. "It will be good to be back to Sharpeton, and tell them that they need not fear you anymore."

Bendigeidfran
Dec 17, 2013

Wait a minute...




"Ah, Lerissa, you're up! Just the monk I needed. You see, while entranced last night, I thought up a most novel theory considering the elements. The way I see it, the state transition between Fire and Metal in a low-pressure environment can be accomplished far easier with the presence of a powdered ambient flux. Carrying a bit off the research my daughter's professor has been doing. "

She jauntily spins her great-hammer along the center of its handle, fortunately at a safe distance from anything important. "To make a long story short: I'd like to spar a couple rounds once we get back, to confirm this. I know a lovely clearing for the purpose. No dry wood in sight."

Bendigeidfran fucked around with this message at Jan 23, 2017 around 20:09

Wahad
May 19, 2011



Everything by design.


The goodbyes are quick. The lizardfolk are busy restoring their own tribe, but Dirthak does come up to express his gratitude once more. "Masters, Dirthak has many thanks! Masters saved tribe from shiny one, but also Dirthak from being tribeless! Saved Dirthak's place in Great Roost with ancestors! Dirthak forever grateful." He goes on like that for a while, until he realizes the party is intent on leaving. He bows for you, and with a final expression of gratitude, he leaves you to prepare for the journey. You gather your things quickly and start making your way out the warren. As you travel through the cave tunnels, you occasionally spot a few lizardman corpses, altered similarly to the big brute you fought at the farm. It seems Tashmayuth's changes were too much for them to handle once her mental dominance ceased to be.

As soon as you leave the tunnels, Hurri bleats contently, eager to be out from the underground again. Diane and Gard shield their eyes as they adjust to the brightness, but it doesn't slow them down as they follow you down the mountain pass. It's not long before you meet Seb again, but the old stablemaster had already packed up the horses, seemingly right about to leave, and turns around with a start as he hears your approach. "You made it! I was beginning to think y'all were lost down there. Is..." he hesitates, but his face brightens when he sees the farmer's wife behind you, "Diane! Ha! You're alive!" He hoots with triumph and fistpumps. "Seems like the heroes live up to their names again. Come on, mount up! It's time to head home." He gives Diane a hand up onto his own horse, while Gard joins Ethrielle. Angharad's horse once more bristles as she rises, though there doesn't seem to be as much contrariness behind it this time.

Without as much hurry behind your journey, there's no need to drive the horses as hard as you have. That does mean it takes the better part of the day to travel back to Sharpeton, however, especially as you stop a few hours in to gather Edwin's body from where you'd left it in the bushes - on Diane's extreme insistence. You take a few branches to weave a primitive sled, and combining it with some of the ropes from your packs means you can carry the dead farmer behind you in a somewhat respectful manner. So when you do finally arrive at Sharpeton, it's late in the afternoon, nearing dinner time.



Seb gathers the horses and leads them off to the stables, as you take Diane to the temple of Moradin. Your procession draws a few curious eyes, but as they see the cloaked body, the bystanders bow their heads in solemn respect of the dead. The temple itself is a sober, simple place, with few ornaments save what's carved into the walls. To the side, however, you can hear the clanging of hammers on iron, where the clergy does their smithing. One of the acolytes - a strong, broad-shouldered lad - guides you inside, and two more clerics take up the sled with Ed's body. Diane reaches out for the clothed body, but the clerics assure her that they'll take good care of him with soft voices.



It's not long before you're brought before Father Ironbone. The dwarf is a surly looking fellow, his bald head creased with pensive wrinkles, and his heavy eyebrows crown perceptive eyes. He wears a thick robe, but his massive beard covers most of the design on the front tabard. "Ah! Sit, sit. I've already called for Mira," he says, giving Diane a glance, "She's a remarkable girl. Very resilient. I imagine it runs in the family, mm?" At that point, the girl you had encountered in a panic two nights earlier comes in. Now that she's been taken care of, Mira is quite the sight; her hair dark and voluminous as it frames her soft face. She's wearing a sober acolyte's robe instead of a muddy, torn dress. But as she sees her mother, the waterworks start coming out again, and she runs into a hug. "Oh, mama! I'm so glad you're alive again! I thought - I thought..." Her words trail off again as Diane soothes her daughter, and the two spend a long time in a loving embrace.

Father Ironbone takes your attention for a moment, and addresses you in a serious tone. "The family will need a while to rebuild, but they're good people. They'll keep on working. I'll send some of the acolytes to help. What's more important is that this was an incursion on Sharpeton ground. On our people. I need to know if we need to prepare for a fight. Tell me everything."

Bendigeidfran
Dec 17, 2013

Wait a minute...




Angharad glances over the heads of the busy smiths (a rather easy task for her), noticing the progress of this and that, taking in the etched melodies of enchantment being crafted by Moradin's finest. It is a place she knows well. So well, in fact, that much of her adventure-worn gear has been removed by familiar acolytes at the door. Portions of briliantly-dyed padded cloth are fleetingly visible behind the swishing of now-uncovered mail.

She can't help but excuse herself to chat to one of the surlier journeydwarves. "...yes, you can trust Elanis, I swear it now as I have before...you- no I did not lose that drinking bout against Ethrie- my record is clear and you know it more than anyone. Well, maybe Karela could...." Intermittently her eyes lean back towards her companions, flitting nervously for the first time in a while. Her shoulder nudges insistently towards the others, and squat shoulders shrug sarcastically in response. She's clear to go, at least, and hurries over before she misses anything important.

Awkwardly interjecting a half-second before Ironbone finishes, "Of course not, of course not. The Lizardfolk- you see, they were the ones who had attacked, did not do so of their own free will. Yes, they were compelled by a Naga. Or Gorgon -oh she was one of the two anyways- who'd held their whole clans hostage. She'd emptied the minds of their elders, slaughtered their young, transformed their warriors into beasts, done terribly disgraceful things. And she sought after Edwin's family simply to exploit their magical potential. Too cowardly to kidnap one of us, clearly!"

"The raiders fell 'gainst our courage quite easily. " Here she glances towards the two elves present, seems to giggle silently, and foregoes some of the details. "As did one to poor Edwin, while he was their prisoner. Yet the last of their number, Dirthak, was capture by Yraine here and led us to his warren at Snagglestone. There we found his honorable Chief Thotka, defeated the chief in fair battle, and learned of their plight as I've said. Deep was the way we wound after that, and treacherous. Until finally we came to the hall where our enemy slithered."

"We told her to, what was it Elanis? 'Go gently caress herself with that giant tail of hers'." She says this to the holy Father without remark. "Her mental abilities struck us terriby in the battle afterwards, but in the end our strength of arm prevailed. Gramd smote her upon the rock. And for this, the Lizardfolk swore peace and friendship between our tribes. No further threat shall come to us from Snagglestone while they still stand, Father Ironbone."

Diplomacy (1d20+2) 9 Didn't have to roll this, honestly, but I decided to work with it.

Wahad
May 19, 2011



Everything by design.


The priest taps his fingers on his desk, listening attentively while sparing an occasional glance at Mira, who is still clinging to her mother in immense relief. "Mm. I did notice the girl had some magical talent, however minor, but to destroy a home for such a thing...The implications are disturbing, to say the least," he says when Angharad finally finishes explaining, "but if you say the threat is gone, then I have no reason to disbelieve you. I'll still have some of the town guard accompany the rebuilding of the farm, just to be sure." With a firm nod, he rises. "I'm grateful for your looking after our community, heroes. Such a stalwart effort in defense of the innocent is a valuable thing to have." His bearded face curls into a gentle smile. "Edwin, bless his sacrifice, will be buried tomorrow. A good man. I'm sure he'd be grateful to know you saved his family. But for now, you should take some time to yourselves. After such an effort, I can imagine you are in need of some care of your own."

Father Ironbone walks around to the front of his desk, and gestures out the window of the small office. "You can go around to the smithy and find a weapon, or armor, to your liking. I've already instructed the Hammers to let you pick anything of your choosing. A small token of appreciation for your efforts. I'm sure you could use something to aid your efforts in the future." You feel secure in your knowledge that you saved not only the farmers' lives, but also the tribe from committing future atrocities, perhaps against the rest of Sharpeton's inhabitants. Mira and Diane look at you gratefully. They lost their father and husband, but at least they can still continue their lives. For now, you have some time to take care of your own business; though undoubtedly, your services will be required soon enough.

Everybody take a free Level 6 or below magical weapon or armor. Also, feel free to do as you like around town - if you want to shop around, you can purchase anything of Common rarity in Sharpeton for the appropriate gold price, and anything of Uncommon rarity requires at least one person to pass a Streetwise check of 25.

Stallion Cabana
Feb 14, 2012
1; Get into Grad School

2; Become better at playing Tabletop, both as a player and as a GM/ST/W/E

3; Get rid of this goddamn avatar.



"Oh, a sparring? That seems quite exciting, of course I'm excited to go another round." Lerissa says to Amngharad as they head back to town. "But only if we play some chess afterwards." she says with a smile. With the eyes of others upon her, she isn't uncomfortable, but is still fine allowing others to take control of the interactions; on some level she feels bad that she allowed her anger to cloud her judgement and resulted in her almost perishing and also causing increased danger for her friends. But after the situation is finished, she nods.

"Thank you, Father." She says. "Your generosity, and the generosity of the town, is much appreciated." She says.

Stallion Cabana fucked around with this message at Jan 28, 2017 around 20:03

Bendigeidfran
Dec 17, 2013

Wait a minute...




"Why not a round of each in tandem? I've a granite board for the very purpose. It's not a challenge for the faint of heart, of course. Face me with your best if you're still willing, Lerissa!" This cheery ribbing is followed by a light blow on the monk's arm.

-----
As Ironbone finishes she bows slightly to the kindly townsfolk present. "Then this Sir Knight accepts your offer. Though I think I'll just pick up a souvenir or two from the market."

Angharad then casts a quick ear to the smiths, some of whom are huddled around her shield. The murmurs she hears from them are optimistic. It seems like the restoration, so long in planning, is going well.

Upgrading my shield to a Shield of Protection. I did have my eye on a Rain of Hammers Ki Focus, but I think that can wait. Unless someone is willing to do that Streetwise check.

*If anyone's interested: Sir is the welsh word for Shire, and Knights of the Shire were elected representatives sent to Parliament. Thus, one of Angharad's fancier-sounding titles is "Sir Knight".

Bendigeidfran fucked around with this message at Feb 1, 2017 around 19:28

K Prime
Nov 4, 2009





"I suppose I should consider my defense more," says Yraine, thoughtfully. "I will take a sturdy shield so that I may learn how to wield it."

With that, she bows and leaves into town, apparently deep in thought. A psionic foe so far from home has made her wary of bringing her family doom upon her friends and Sharpeton, and she intends to wander the town seeking any other signs of such monsters.

Picking up a Shield of Deflection, though I can't actually wear it until level 8, when I take the drat feat...

TheArchimage
Dec 17, 2008




Ethrielle cheerfully passed on the invitation to chess-box. "I'll be moral support instead. I'm not so good at punching and you already know how bad I am at chess." During their first and only match Angharad was patient and understanding, allowing Ethrielle a take-back while tactfully not mentioning Ethrielle's moves had the nickname of Fool's Mate. The rest of the game had not gone much better for her, and she simply accepted chess was not one of her talents.

If I'm allowed, taking Bracers of Archery as an "armor" pick.

Wahad
May 19, 2011



Everything by design.


It's a few days later when you convene again for lunch in Duke's. As the days have been quiet, there's not much to discuss; but you have received word that the rebuilding of the farm is going well, and you've seen Mira in town occasionally, shopping for food or other sundries. So 'tis a merry hour, with good food and good drink, but eventually you make way for the door to go about your own business. Barely a foot out the door, you hear a call of "Elector! Elector, hold a moment!" and as you turn, you see a burly, grim-looking tiefling hastily making his way to you. He stands rather tall, but moves on a light foot, his robe fluttering with his pace.

'

Angharad recognizes him immediately. This is Arthus, one of the refugees from Sovereign's Victory that came with her to Madulane after abandoning the town. He, and some others, quickly found a way to put their natural strength to good use in the lumber mills, and have been working there ever since. He salutes the knight after approaching, and inclines his head respectfully to the others. "I have need of your aid, Elector. One of our own has fallen afoul of a troublesome fate." His voice is rough and gravely, and he is eloquent, but you can all see the trepidation on his face. "Howell is missing. It's been almost two days now. We know not where, or how, but the local constables are unconcerned with his fate. You are my last resort."

Bendigeidfran
Dec 17, 2013

Wait a minute...




"Howell's missing!?" Angharad darts upwards, upending her table and spilling the day's good drink onto the floor. She steps cautiously to avoid some of the still-intact bottles rolling on the floor, but her course towards Arthus does not waver. "Arthus, we're to pursue this case at once. At once, do you hear me!"

The woman leans in for a few more personal words. "Whoever did this would know I'd pursue them; assuming some cleverness on their part, speed is now the better part of discretion. My companions are to be spared no information. This includes Yraine. Save only what Howell's family requests. We are...Sharpeton folk now, and carry with us all that means." She waves the others over.

Bendigeidfran fucked around with this message at Feb 20, 2017 around 20:03

Wahad
May 19, 2011



Everything by design.


Arthus shakes his head sadly. "I have little information that can be of use, Elector. Last time I saw Howell, he was headed home after an evening's merriment in The Unending Ballad. I thought he was merely taking a day off, or perhaps had fallen ill, but then I did not see him when I went by his house, nor did his girl see him come home. Guards assume he had left the town - laborers come and go, such is the way of the workforce in the mills, but the circumstances are... ominous." He goes grimly quiet, then turns his attention to the rest of the party. "If you are to assist the Elector in this matter, then you have my thanks, and that of all the Fandians in our community." The tiefling scratches his chest - you notice a scar or two near where his fingers touch his skin - then bows again.

"I have noticed others in the mills not showing up one day when they had been fine before, but I can not say whom of those have ended up as Howell. As I said, it is not uncommon for laborers to simply pack up and leave if they feel like they have had enough, and try to find their luck elsewhere. And not all of us mingled well with the natives beyond common courtesy," he says, shrugging apologetically towards Angharad, "so their ways are not well known to us. But now that Howell has disappeared in such a way, I can not help but wonder how many others have befallen the same fate.."

Bendigeidfran
Dec 17, 2013

Wait a minute...




"Not like him to leave his girl behind, not at all. We both saw them at the last boar-roast, eh Arthus? Like lovebirds dipped in sugared glue." Angharad's glance falls downwards for a moment, sighing.

"We'll raise quite the disagreement with the constabulary when this is done, I swear it. But for now, it'd be best to trace his path from The Unending Ballad on. Interview who we can. And-" here she traces a small diamond with two mailed fingers " 'sovereign willing, find him victorious and unscathed'. "

The old canard sticks in her throat.

Look Around You
Jan 19, 2009

You're just lucky my jaw is broken!


Elanis had been skulking around town during their downtime, trying to catch up on the rumors. He hasn't heard anything particularly interesting. Joel the baker's son has taken to nicking small items from the market and had gotten caught by the guards. Ulric's still going on about that necromancer too.

---

Elanis sits quietly while the Tiefling converses with Angharad. He turns to the rest of his companions, saying, "We'd best get ready to head out as quick as we can. This doesn't sound good at all." He heads over to Ang, putting a hand on her shoulder, asking her, "Do you think this has anything to do with you? The way you're talking, it sounds as though they were targeting Howell to get to you, or at least knew that you in particular would respond."


Streetwise: 1d20+8 19 for rumors and things related to rumors

Stallion Cabana
Feb 14, 2012
1; Get into Grad School

2; Become better at playing Tabletop, both as a player and as a GM/ST/W/E

3; Get rid of this goddamn avatar.



Lerissa feels a deal of sympathy for the man, well really all the refugees, but the similar races between her and the man make her feel it more acutely. She nods along to his story, nods along to Angharad, her face cool. "I'll assist as I can, then." She agrees with seriousness. "If this has been going on before, as well, it may be a serious issue we'll need to investigate. I'll do my best to help." She says, rubbing her chin.

Bendigeidfran
Dec 17, 2013

Wait a minute...




Angharad accepts Lerissa's offer with a cordial, softly clinking tilt of the head.

Her response to Elanis, however, is spoken more coolly than usual. "It is likely from the facts as they are. As Elector I may claim rights of representation when my fellow citizens suffer offense; a matter of tradition more than anything. Should one of our number be captured or-" she lingers on the word "-worse, I am empowered to seek out those who did so. Commence trial against them. And to crush them forthwith in judicial battle."

"I have sworn that I'd do so, bellowed it so loudly that it's seared into the public record. I will not allow my people to come to harm!" Angharad can feel the echo of her words, breathes to steady herself. "This obligation may yet be...a lure, to those devious enough to abuse it. "

----
The necromancer that brandy-fiend Ulric keeps howling about crosses her mind. In Angharad's distress, it calls nothing good to mind. Only light-starved eyes run red with hunger, and withered bones cast down from high places.

TheArchimage
Dec 17, 2008




Ethrielle could not quite stop a smirk from spreading to her lips. "If they did something to him to lure you out, then I think they've underestimated what they're trying to catch. Maybe his drinking buddies at the Ballad could tell us something? Even if Howell wasn't acting suspicious and said nothing out of the ordinary that's still useful information."

K Prime
Nov 4, 2009





"We should have a care, my fine friends," says Yraine. "It is odd for this small township to see so much danger so fast. Something may be amiss greater than we can see."

Bendigeidfran
Dec 17, 2013

Wait a minute...




"You're onto something there, Ethrielle. Any bar, even the Ballad, holds a place of high confidence for its regulars. Confidence that ah, survives many tests that come its way..." Angharad trails off apologetically, noting Brenna cleaning up the spilled mead and gravy from her previous outburst. The two exchange a sympathetic look. Unfortunately, some of the congealing slop appears to be the mead Karela had expressly requested.

"And, of course, should some emboldened malevolence have its hands in this, we must meet it with twice the boldness of our own."

Wahad
May 19, 2011



Everything by design.


Arthus watches the exchange with a mix between resignation and hope. "I do not know how much you will find. The streets around the Ballad are as any in Sharpeton. Unsuspicious. Crowded. But if I can be of any assistance, please, you have but to ask. Howell is a good friend, and I can't help but feel responsible." The tiefling nods, and it turns into a slight bow. "But if you'll excuse me now, my duty calls - even if Howell is gone, I must still labor. Thank you again. The Elector will know where to find me outside working hours, if you need it." With another half-bow, he briskly walks off.

Elanis: You've not heard much. Some people have been discussed as 'just up and left'. Not everybody's concerned about it, though. It's not uncommon, especially with the transient labor force at the mills. You have heard of a few people that had their friends concerned, though, in similar circumstances as Howell. But these were less recent events, and the city guard were similarly unmotivated to investigate much. Or so you heard.

The Unending Ballad is located in the not-quite-savory part of town. As far as villages go, there's not a lot of crime in Sharpeton beyond the occasional disagreement-turned-fistfight or drunken harassment. But when such a thing happens, it happens around the industrial part of town. The noise of the mills is louder here, and a perpetual smell of wood and lacquer lingers in the air. As it's the middle of the day, you can hear plenty of yelling and other bustle, too, of workers, foremen and tradesmen all trying to do their job over the noise. The Ballad itself is a large building, almost as big as the Temple of Moradin, with two floors that have enough space to accommodate the sizeable workforce that comes in to drink away their sorrows and relax after a hard day's work. As it's only mid-day, however, it's not opened yet - that only occurs right before dinnertime. But you do see one of the waiters cleaning the windows on the inside; a slightly-under-average-size goliath with a chipper attitude. You can't hear it from here, but you can see he's whistling some kind of tune as he works.

Wahad fucked around with this message at Mar 1, 2017 around 19:41

Look Around You
Jan 19, 2009

You're just lucky my jaw is broken!




"You know, I've been hearing of similar disappearances around town guys, though not quite as recent. I know they're typically transient, but there were friends voicing concern to me. I don't think it's just Howell that we're dealing with that's missing... this could be something bigger. And maybe not directed at you, Ang"

Bendigeidfran
Dec 17, 2013

Wait a minute...




Angharad is staring intently at the Ballad's walls when Elanis chips in, seemingly lost in thought. Her whole upper body seems to jerk towards him before her quiet response. "More than just Howell? Ill news, very ill news. Hmph, personal score or not, my vigor will not be lessened. Not by a whit! At the very least, though, this does eliminate some rather...unsavoury possibilities."

She sidles up to the Goliath waiter, humming the next few notes of his tune from gradually recalled memory. Her helmet makes the sound rather pleasingly resonant. "Ho there! Do you have some time to chat? We're here asking after a good friend with a poor tolerance. A Mr. Howell."

The elector's upbeat tone matches the waiter's to get a foot in the door, if only for now.


History to recall the tune: 1d20+13: 31 Not sure if it's important, but knowing the same music could make a good impression right?

Wahad
May 19, 2011



Everything by design.


The song is a popular one among the loggers in the area; a working song, with a steady, regular meter, to help make the chore of hauling heavy lumber easier. The Goliath startles a little as you walk in, though, but a smile is quick on his face. "Ho there! Didn't expect a visitor at this hour. We're closed, you know?" Despite that, he doesn't seem to mind the intrusion. The man sets down his bucket, leaning against the wood-and-brick wall with a pensive hum. "Howell? Don't know the name. But we get so many people in here, that's hardly a surprise. What's he look like?"

Bendigeidfran
Dec 17, 2013

Wait a minute...




"Oh, you couldn't miss him. Eladrin fellow about five-foot-ten, straight black hair tied up in a topknot, and enough tiefling blood in him to grow a flowing moustache and beard." Here she whispers faux-conspiratorially. "He'd say his skin's a bit red naturally, but really he's just embarrassed all the time. Tried to be an abbot once and the awkwardness was about all that took."

Angharad taps at her helmet's 'chin'. "Quite the handsome devil all the same. Always dressed in dark blues and whites, with more variety in wardrobe than you'd think was possible. He would've had a...fondness for spiced apple cider with honey, yes. Always the sweet drinks with him. But don't get me wrong, he would've been more than strong enough to pull his own at the mills."

Wahad
May 19, 2011



Everything by design.


The goliath thinks for a moment, then seems to have an epiphany. "Ah, yeah, I remember him. Good guy. Good drinker. Not sure what to tell you, though. He left around midnight last night. Still walking, or shimmying's more like it." His brows furrow as he cocks his head slightly. "Something wrong with him? Not often we get people askin' bout their friends here."

Bendigeidfran
Dec 17, 2013

Wait a minute...




"He hasn't been home for two days now." Angharad is forthright. "And we're trying to find out what's keeping him."

K Prime
Nov 4, 2009





"Yet stranger still," says Yraine, frowning. "If he has not been home in a twoday, from where did he arrive last night, and where has he wandered on this morning?"

Wahad
May 19, 2011



Everything by design.


"Don't know what to tell you," the waiter says, "he was in here. With some other mill workers. A dwarf, two humans. Not his usual crowd, I guess - he's usually with those other Fandians - but hey, maybe he's making new friends. They drank plenty. Ate enough. Their table wasn't in a rowdy mood like some others, but that's not uncommon. They paid their tab, left a decent tip." He shrugs, heavy shoulders rising and falling with a sluggish motion. "Look, can I get back to work? I don't know what more to tell you, and I gotta finish all the windows before we open. That's a lot of windows, in case you hadn't noticed." He gestures around the grand hall, and indeed, there's plenty of glasswork.

Look Around You
Jan 19, 2009

You're just lucky my jaw is broken!




"One last question, if you would... you wouldn't happened to have caught any of their names, would you have?" Elanis asks the waiter.


Streetwise: 1d20+8 10 to try to get any leads out in Da Streets.

Bendigeidfran
Dec 17, 2013

Wait a minute...




"But of course." While the waiter is answering Elanis' question, Angharad quietly flickers out of view. She snaps back with a hand thrust into the Ballad's tip pot, depositing a decent sum of gold for the waiter's time. Doing so openly was always frowned on in Madulane; this strikes her as odd even now, but it's a custom she's willing to accommodate.

The woman jauntily waves goodbye once said question appears to be answered. "May I ask your name? It's poor sport to engage a man and neglect to learn who he is."

We should head in the direction Howell+"friends" left and ask after them, yeah.

Bendigeidfran fucked around with this message at Mar 8, 2017 around 16:10

Wahad
May 19, 2011



Everything by design.


"Nope. They didn't really call eachother by name. Your man didn't look hurt or worried, though, for what that's worth." The goliath dunks his sponge in the bucket of soapy water, and starts cleaning the windows again, before being interrupted by Angharad's final question. "Oh, uh, name's Miklos. Glad to help! If I see him, I'll tell him you came looking." With that, he goes back to work, and you move back out to the streets.

Elanis: You find nothing of particular note. Most people are too busy with their day to stop and answer questions, and are curt at best. It's nothing personal, but you're talking to laborers, and they're still on the clock.

Bendigeidfran
Dec 17, 2013

Wait a minute...




"Hrmph, without a solid lead we could burn so much time around Sharpeton that I'll keel over. Perhaps Howell's home is our best chance. I can get us in without worry, we all go- well, we go as far back as any bunch of eladrin in a small town can go. A very, very long ways."

Stallion Cabana
Feb 14, 2012
1; Get into Grad School

2; Become better at playing Tabletop, both as a player and as a GM/ST/W/E

3; Get rid of this goddamn avatar.



"Agreed." she nods to Angharad. "I may not be of the most help, but I think that would be more prudent, it does rather seem as if time is of the essence. Lead on, friend." She says.

TheArchimage
Dec 17, 2008




"Yeah, let's do that," Ethrielle said with a shiver. "This is just too eerie. It really is like he just vanished into thin air."

Wahad
May 19, 2011



Everything by design.


Howell's home is a little deeper into the district, and as the party goes through the street, you get the occasional glance. After all, amidst the mass of plainly dressed laborers and other commoners, you kind of stand out. But that's nothing new. The house itself is seated in a row of similar houses, small and cramped but cozy enough on the inside, as you can see from the window; a small hearth, some potted flowers here and there, and what looks like painting canvases, in various stages of progress. As you approach the house, a woman is locking the door, ready to head out to wherever. "Oh!" She startles as she almost runs right into Lerissa as she turns around. "Sorry! I didn't - um, can I help you?" She puts on a gentle smile, but it doesn't reach her light grey eyes. The young woman is a human, with short, dark hair and freckles all over her face and arms. She's definitely not a Fandian but as her eyes drift over your group, she cocks her head curiously at Angharad. "Wait...haven't I seen you before? You're, uh...you're the Elector, right? Howell's friend? If you're here to see him, he's," she pauses, and you can practically feel the tension in the silence, "he's not around."

Bendigeidfran
Dec 17, 2013

Wait a minute...




"Indeed I am, Rowena!" Angharad lightly proffers a handshake the moment an opportunity presents itself.

"Call me Angharad, if you prefer." She then introduces each of the party by name. "I regret to say that we're here precisely because he isn't around. Arthus has informed me that he's been missing for two days now, and was last seen in the company of a dwarf and two humans at, ah, The Unending Ballad."

She mentions the inn's name with a somber, sympathetic unease, which steadily rises into the imperious tone of an Elector's proclamation. "By the common law we forged together, I am granted full powers to investigate his disappearance and affect his return."

"But right now-" her voice falls back into warmth, tinged with worry "-I simply intend to find a good friend. Some lead to his whereabouts may have been left here. And worry not. I know he trusted you."

Wahad
May 19, 2011



Everything by design.


Rowena shakes Angharad's hand, but there's little conviction behind it. "I'm...glad to hear it. I tried to ask the guards, but that didn't go so well. I don't know what you expect to find here, though. I mean - Howell never kept a diary, or anything. And..." She falls silent, looking away. "Everything seemed so normal, you know? We were just living our lives, like any other day, and then one night he just didn't come home. And the next. And I don't know what to do."

K Prime
Nov 4, 2009





Behind Angharad, Yraine quietly evaluates their host. With charity, mind; it would be too much like her family to be overly suspicious of the innocent; but with a careful eye regardless. If there is something greater at work, no man or woman is safe.

Insight: 1d20+5 17

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Wahad
May 19, 2011



Everything by design.


All Yraine can read from the young woman is carefully, yet badly hidden anxiety and helplessness. She's honest, at least, but she doesn't really want to talk about the subject - it obviously hurts.

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