|
A Tale of Six Thieves Crimmor, Amn A young messenger makes his way through the bustling crowds of the Caravan Capital. His feet, though small, carry him with a swiftness of purpose, and his eyes, though they never linger, take in every passersby's features, though they aren't quite a match. It's not until he gets to a small alley, where a hooded figure rests in the shadows, that the messenger's expression brightens. "Letter for you, miss!" His voice is thick with a Calimshan accent, but he doesn't stick around long enough to answer any questions; as soon as Layla Tahan takes the letter, he darts back into the crowd. Athkatla, Amn We join our young messenger once more some time later, enjoying a swig of fine Arabellan dry in a tavern, as he and the rest of the crowd listen to the local performer; a young elven woman. She walks through the crowd, telling an epic tale of heroics and derring-do with a voice so pure it's nigh magical. The boy puts on a pair of ruby-colored glasses, making sure he has the right person for delivery; waiting for the thunderous applause to break out as the bard finishes her tale, he finishes his wine and steps forward boldly amidst a rain of coin. "Hullo, miss. Have a letter for you!" The envelope reads Yren Sivaath - a name the elven woman attempts to refute is hers, but the messenger is gone yet again. Baldur's Gate Later still, the boy treads carefully through the Gate's riverside slums; he occasionally dodges a town guard patrol, not quite wanting to elaborate why he's out so late at night lest they go through his possessions. He had been given explicit instructions not to let anybody do so, after all. While resting inside an alley, waiting for an opportune moment to pass, a gravelly voice creeps out of the shadows at him. "Ain't no place for a whelp like you to be out, boyo," a tough-looking dwarf grumbles. "Best scoot afore ya find yourself running afoul of a blade to cut that purse o' yours." Despite the thinly-veiled threat, the messenger doesn't shrink back, standing on his tiptoes to look behind the dwarf. "That's alright, sir. I found what I needed!" Before the dwarf can stop him, the boy's already slipped by, reaching into his pocket for the letter to be delivered to the dwarf's companion lurking further back; Silmgrok Stonefist. Somewhere in the Sword Mountains The falcon beat its wings with increasing pace against the buffeting wind. It wasn't made for trips like these; but it had a job to do, and so it would...but it was getting tired. The shallow cave it spots makes for sweet relief after the lengthy journey it had made; and for some much-needed shelter from the incoming rain. The bird waits there for a while, perched on a little rock out-cropping, confident enough in its safety to take a little nap. It wakes up a little later to the crackling sound of a burning log. Stretching its wings out a little, it takes a look at the newcomer; a lanky, angry-looking half-orc. The sparrow's cry echoes through the cave as it glides down, coming closer with a few calls to get the half-orc's attention. If she would bother to look, she might see the bird is actually carrying a note around its leg. Unfurling it, she reads her name at the very top; Donata Longclaw. A dark alley in Waterdeep A good haul, this time. Mask would be pleased. The little thief scurries through the alley, to that shrine where he knows the Shadowlord has a presence. He gets on his knees, running through the little prayer he had been taught with a quick whisper as he offers up a part of his prize, in exchange for the blessing. The shrine is much like usual; trinkets, libations, and small piles of cash. But there is something else there, a small envelope branded with a name not his own; Thia Taletreader. The little thief's eyes go wide - this had never happened before - and he scurries back out into the crowd to find the one that had taught him his prayer. The Golden Coin Tavern, Waterdeep The barrel-shaped half-orc whistles a slow, off-key tune as he runs the cleaning cloth around the mug. It was a quiet day, today, with very few patrons; but that suited him just fine. Coin would flow as the evening would progress. It always did. When the young woman enters, looking haggard and tired, his expression brightens a little. "Ho there! Been a while. Same as usual, I imagine?" Not hearing anything to the contrary, he pours the woman her favorite drink. "By the way, letter came in for you. Not sure why they brought it here...but I imagine you'll want to read it all the same. Somewhere private." He slides over the drink with a knowing look. As the woman lifts the glass, she spots the parchment, with her name written on it in a fine script. Valeria Garland. All six locations The approached open their letters at their own convenience, and read the following: quote:If this letter has reached you, know that we are aware of your work, and have great admiration for your skills. To that end, we would like to hire your services for a job that could only be done by someone as proficient in your field as you. Rest assured that your reward will be most generous. Please make your way to Waterdeep as soon as you can. Below you will find instructions on where to find us. The Singing Hag, Waterdeep You each enter on your own time on the 8th of Kythorn. The Singing Hag was a little hard to find; few people could show you directions, and when you did find it, you were surprised to find it squeezed inbetween buildings, the doorway giving way to a small hall with few chairs and fewer tables. The place has no windows, the only natural light provided through your opening of the door; though there are various candles burning throughout the place, and old, rickety lanterns hang from the ceiling. There are a few patrons there already, though they don't look up at your entry, concerned only with their food, drink, and the company of eachother. Some converse with eachother in calm, though hushed tones. Behind the bar, a large, bald man is cleaning a mug, though the glass of it is long dulled with age, making the movements seem simply for show. A thin cigar hangs from the corner of his mouth under a thick moustache, and his bushy brows furrow as he watches you come in. The innkeep looks at you, then to something behind the counter, then back to you. He nods, though his expression is far from hospitable. Putting down his cleaning rag, he points to a free table in the back. "They covered your tab in advance," he grunts, "we got ale 'n we got mead. Also whiskey." Looking behind him, you see an array of bottles and casks; though his tour of the menu seems to ring ruefully true, as there are indeed only three varieties of drinks that you can spot, and none too fancy. "Cook's sick, so no grub." He offers no explanation of who 'they' are, and looking around you see no particular person that might have sent you this letter. Half of the patrons look barely able to write at all, and the other half is too drunk or otherwise intoxicated to wait patiently for six esteemable thieves that they ferreted out through unknown means. Seems you'll have to wait. --- For your first post, please include your finalized sheet and your image. For other posts, please head all your posts with the following for ease of reference: code:
OOC Thread
|
# ? Jun 25, 2018 09:36 |
|
|
# ? Apr 27, 2024 01:43 |
|
Yren plucks her lyre idly as she waits, sitting cross-legged on the furthest barstool from the door. She orders an ale but hasn't drunk any yet, settling her errant plucking into a sweet but simple melody as the first of what's to be her compatriots comes through the door. It's clear enough they're a higher calibre individual than the banality of the other patrons, and she finds herself wondering if they might be her contact before the barman gives them the same spiel he gave her. Not the contact, then. An associate. Another wandering scoundrel, lured to Waterdeep from who knows what corner of Toril by the mysterious message. She decides to strike up a conversation. "Whence blows this soul before me? By thy receipt I take thee for a comrade, though in what deed I cannot say." Yren takes a slender hand from her lyre and proffers it, her curious eyes appraising the newcomer from head to foot. Despite having just arrived in Waterdeep, she's taken the time to change into a flowing seaweed-green robe and plentiful (but not particularly extravagant) jewelry. A bard's look is vital to their trade, after all, and with her curious niche it pays to go all out. Her offered hand is thus adorned with a couple modest rings, her arm bedecked with pretty but likewise inexpensive bangles. "I am called Yren." She gives the newcomer a winning smile. quote:Name: Yren Sivaath Wol fucked around with this message at 16:17 on Jun 25, 2018 |
# ? Jun 25, 2018 16:11 |
|
Long fingernails scratch against the wooden door as it was pushed open, a tall figure that resembled an under-stuffed scarecrow stood in silhouette in the doorway before walking in using a long staff, the torchlight revealing the rough hair and the cloak of bear hide resting on her shoulders, seeming to bark her order at the barman as she passed rather than say it "Whiskey. Strong." before moving her eyes to the scaled woman who had taken the decision to address her. "Longclaw." The Half-Orc replied bluntly, only staring at the outstretched arm and the smile with a confused glare as she sat down to wait. "You call me here? Part of they? Or We?" quote:Name: Donata Longclaw Manic_Misanthrope fucked around with this message at 20:56 on Apr 2, 2019 |
# ? Jun 25, 2018 19:11 |
|
Layla Tahan Layla hides out of sight outside of the tavern, quietly casting Detect Magic on herself. She then quickly slinks into the tavern wearing a set blackened leather armor and a red hood and mask, both pulled down to reveal her bright red hair, cut to a medium length. She slides up to the bar and having a seat next to the Half-Orc and the Mermaid. She listens in on the initial part of the conversation before poking in, "I guess yall are here for the same reason I am, then. Prolly got a few more t' wait for before th' person givin th' orders comes around. Doubt he'd make himself seen until we all get here. Oh, and the name's Layla. Layla Tahan." She takes Yren’s hand and shakes it, before holding hers out to the half-orc. With that, she turns around and orders a wheat beer from the bartender. Action: Cast Detect Magic before entering tavern. (Concentration, 10 minutes.) quote:Biographical Info Look Around You fucked around with this message at 21:38 on Jun 25, 2018 |
# ? Jun 25, 2018 20:25 |
|
Thia's dressed in a black, flowing cloak, nearly a silk sheet with a hole cut in the middle, that's frayed at the edges bound by cloth belt at her waist that holds the strange carved mask. It billows about with each step, writhing almost as if it's alive and desperately trying to escape her form. It serves to obfuscate her precautions, leather armor and a dagger tucked away just out of sight, just as much as it does her form in the night. She steps through the door and heads for the bar and an ambling pace, half-lidded eyes taking in the room and the patrons present as she slips into the seat opposite Layla, on the far side of Donata and Yren. She's quiet, at first, and knits her brow for just a moment as they begin to discuss so openly what they've been invited her to do. "I wouldn't say many more." Her eyes glide over the gathered few, lingering just on Yren for a moment before passing over to the bartender. She cocks her head to the side and looks him up and done. Either satisfied or sure that she won't be, the wood elf adjusts in her seat and speaks to no one in particular. "I'm Thia Taletreader, though someone here already knew that." There's no edge to her voice, but the deadpan tone she tends to speak in gives a strange implied snark or derision to all the snippy little comments she's so keen on making. quote:Name: Thia Taletreader GenuineRevelry fucked around with this message at 02:12 on Jun 29, 2018 |
# ? Jun 25, 2018 21:14 |
|
Valeria Garland The door to the tavern opens, and in walks in a tall, well-built women, dressed in a bright, lavish uniform that makes her stick out from the other patrons in the tavern that day. Valeria doesn't even try to hide her presence, she never had any reason to do so. She walks in, hands in her pockets, exuding confidence with every step she takes, and when the bartender speaks to her, she replies back to him, "Well, who am I to say no to a free drink? I'll gladly have some mead." And with that said, she strides over to the table where the others are. "Hello," she greets them, with an easy smile on her face, "Mind if I join you all?" Valeria doesn't even wait for a response before she takes her seat. "Valeria Garland, but please, call me Val," her eyes move to look at each person sitting with her on the table, as if she was carefully appraising each of them, "I'm guessing each of you have received a letter calling you here?" quote:Name: Valeria Garland (But you can call me Val)
|
# ? Jun 25, 2018 22:34 |
|
Slim (Silmgrok Stonefist) Character Sheet Slim arrived the night before and found a spot he could just see the front door, not well but enough to see if any of his 7 foot tall cousins showed up. It was dead quiet for a couple hours. Not common but not unheard of. Someone finally entered. Looked blue? Definitely not related. Then another, orcish type. Then three more in short time. Nobody else seemed to be coming... Still, better safe than sorry. Come in quietly and check it out first. Stealth: 1d20+9 29 Slim wasn't sure what he expected, but 5 women at a table in the back of an otherwise empty tavern wasn't it. Moving silently he quickly moved up to the table before coughing to make sure they were aware of his presence. "Excuse me, ladies. I followed the directions exactly, but it appears I may have gotten this invite by mistake?"
|
# ? Jun 26, 2018 01:21 |
|
Layla Tahan Layla continues scanning the tavern for signs of the person who called for them. She also continues looking for any magic at all in the area, or anything else suspicious. As the bugbear sits down, she turns to him with a start and replies, "I ain't think you got no letter by mistake. I'm guessin if you're movin that quiet, you fit in jus fine with the rest o' us. Even if you ain't a girl."
|
# ? Jun 26, 2018 01:29 |
|
While most of her new tablemates look like types she might expect to work with, a couple give her pause. First, the soldier, whose handsome dress and easy confidence do little to offset Yren's natural wariness of military types. While she tries to play it cool, smiling invitingly at Val as at all the rest, her body language tenses up a bit from the moment Val enters the room. The second odd fellow is the bugbear, a creature whose presence manages to take her by surprise despite his prodigious mass. The second surprise comes with his manner - by might alone she would've assumed to be a bit more self-assured. Yren welcomes him warmly all the same, gesturing to an empty chair at their table. "Layla speaks it true - you must be of our number. Marry, come sit, join our little jury-crew. But entreat you first the barman - thy tab's paid." Yren runs her hand along her lyre-strings, producing a minor rising arpeggio. There's much to take in about her current situation. "What fortune waits our knavish gallery? What hand, what face behind our summons be?" The pluck of the lyre accompanies her musings. Her expression then turns sardonic, and she reaches for her drink. "If we're to wait, I'll have some ale in me." She sips lightly from her ere untouched glass, definitely taking it slow. She's far from at ease and not keen to play the rear end. The ale itself goes down pleasantly, though that's not saying much; she's still new enough to landfolk victuals that she hasn't developed much of a discerning palate yet. Wol fucked around with this message at 06:44 on Jun 28, 2018 |
# ? Jun 26, 2018 03:03 |
|
The barkeep comes round with a few tankards and glasses. The whiskey is, indeed, strong, bu much more can't be said of it. The ale - including the one Layla gets, with a grumpy look - is weak, and with a vaguely medicinal taste. The mead only has a hint of sweetness, and a sour aftertaste. But a drink's a drink, and you've all known poverty well enough to not look a gift horse in the mouth. Slim gets a foul look from the bartender once he finally notices the bugbear, which takes practically bumping into him on the way back to the bar. "Ya done sneakin'?" The bald man seems quite unintimidated by the presence of an actual bugbear in his tavern, looking as if he's simply dealing with a particularly difficult customer. "If'n ya want a drink, sit yer rear end down. Otherwise get the hell out." I'll be using spoilers (or occasionally Discord DMs) to communicate personal information and leave it up to the players to decide what they choose to do with said information. I should like to request of everyone to respect the spoiler, or at the very least not act on the facts within if your curiosity gets the better of you. Layla: There is a strong cloud of enchantment that hangs around the patrons. It smells vaguely of honey. The barkeep, however, seems to be unaffected. A different touch of enchantment, much weaker and with the smell of the sea, cloaks Yren, while you can spy a vague whiff of illusion with the smell of unburnt tobacco emanating from Thia. Other magics, much fainter, cling to Donata and Slim's forms, though you can't identify them..
|
# ? Jun 26, 2018 08:00 |
|
Slim (Silmgrok Stonefist) Character Sheet Slim pulls up a chair and sits down without a sound, not slowed at all by his large frame. Alright, alright. Ale. He looks over the ladies at the table, opens his mouth as if about to speak, then closes it and after a second tries again. So... any of yous from around here?
|
# ? Jun 26, 2018 08:17 |
|
Donata Longclaw Character sheet Donata looks at Layla offering her hand with a stare just given to Yren, instead opting for a curt nod of the head to both the Half-Elf and the Triton as the rest of the group joined. Even a Bugbear who the Half-Orc sworn she hadn't heard, seen or smelt enter. This was clearly no average gang of thieves, although the sheer diversity could have told her that already. "Long ago. City Changes." she growled out, knocking the powerful spirit back with a brief shudder as the back of her throat boiled. "Letters all the same?" she asked, pulling out the unfolded note she had plucked off the leg of a bird.
|
# ? Jun 26, 2018 17:46 |
|
"Whiskey, please." The momentary mirthless courtesy was outweighed by the fact Thia barely seemed to acknowledge the barkeep's existence. It was almost customary, polite, but thoughtless and devoid of meaning. Just a tad unsettling, all things considered. In fact, her eyes are resting on Slim, whose bumbling attempts at socializing have seemed to earn her attention or perhaps her ire. It was always a bit hard to tell. "I wouldn't say from here." The rare moment of inflection, a strange little note of hesitance was far more telling than she might have cared for. "It's as good a home as any." This reaches a hand through a nearly invisible fold in her makeshift cloak and plucks the letter from its safe little hideaway. She holds it up before the group between the index and middle fingers on her right hand, "Did they find you lot in hidden places? The little corners we carve out for ourselves away from prying eyes." She places the letter itself on the bar top an arm's reach away, free for anyone to take and examine. "Did they find you where you didn't want to be found?" GenuineRevelry fucked around with this message at 02:12 on Jun 29, 2018 |
# ? Jun 26, 2018 18:09 |
|
Layla Tahan Upon sensing the enchantment on the other patrons, Layla decides not to drink any of her ale. Instead, she fidgets with the glass, twirling it around in her hands and sliding it back and forth along the table. She replies to Slim first, "No, I ain't ever left Amn bfore in my life. S' a bit different up here... laws seem more strict, and people seem ta follow em." She then turns towards Thia, nodding. "Yeah, was in an alley. Dunno how they found me. I'm wonderin how they even knew ta find me... must've heard 'bout me from someone at th' guild in Crimmor." Layla leans into the party at the table, whispering quietly, "Be on your toes, somethin's up with th' people here. Some strong enchantments on em..." Look Around You fucked around with this message at 19:20 on Jun 26, 2018 |
# ? Jun 26, 2018 19:00 |
|
Valeria Garland Yren's discomfort is not lost on Val, but before she could even make some sort of comment about it, Slim's sudden appearance causes her to almost instinctively reach out for her weapon, but she quickly stops herself when the bugbear stats talking. How did someone so large, and so hairy, manage to sneak behind all 5 of them without a single sound? Relaxing back on her seat now, she replies to his question, "I was born here, yes, but I spent most of my life outside the city walls." She takes a small sip of her mead. It's not the worst she's ever had, but it's not the best, either, but hey, it's free, so she can't complain too much. Turning to Thia now, she says, "No, they didn't find me in any hidden places, I'm sorry to say. I found this," she pulls out the letter from her front pocket, which she had folded up, "Waiting for me while I was grabbing a drink from another tavern not far from here."
|
# ? Jun 26, 2018 19:21 |
|
Yren decides to ignore the bugbear’s question, figuring he’ll be satisfied with the others’ answers. Thia’s question, on the other hand, she’s more interested in. “‘Twas not where, but in what countenance I thought I’d not be found. I was given my letter by a human lad, scant larger than me. In spite of my disguise, he gave it me with certainty.” She sips again from her watery ale. “Had I been summoned in day’s plain light, I may’ve left the letter to mulch. Methinks by intruding, our patron meant to impress. To show subtleness in their method and knowledge in their venue.” She fixes her gaze on Thia. It’s clear the elf doesn’t appreciate having her privacy invaded, and yet she answered the summons anyway. Yren can relate. “By our gath’ring, the trick must least have intrigued.” Wol fucked around with this message at 06:45 on Jun 28, 2018 |
# ? Jun 26, 2018 23:00 |
|
Slim (Silmgrok Stonefist) Character Sheet "drat kid reached right into the shadows and put it in my pocket." Slim tosses it on the table, still folded "Well, fer myself it seems like drat near a lifetime since I been here. Was thinking I might never come back, but that letter, that kid... didn't seem wise to ignore it." The sea witch ignoring his question seemed a pointed action, but he was satisfied she wasn't local. Doesn't mean he liked her doing it, though. "So, Yren was it? Can ya even pronounce where ya from or do ya need to gargle some o' this ale first?"
|
# ? Jun 26, 2018 23:30 |
|
Not unused to deflecting questions about her past, Yren retorts with a smile, “The common name for it’s ‘the sea’. ‘Tis not too alien. Some of you may e’en have visited.” Wol fucked around with this message at 06:45 on Jun 28, 2018 |
# ? Jun 27, 2018 00:00 |
|
Layla Tahan Layla smiles wide, suspicions confirmed. "So you IS a mermaid then!"
|
# ? Jun 27, 2018 01:13 |
|
The party converses a little more, those of you interested in another drink free to order so. Ten minutes pass, twenty even; but still no sign of your admirer. The patrons remain firmly concerned with their own business, and Yren's lazy picking at the lute actually makes the vague tension and suspicion a little easier to bear. It's Thia and Donata that first notice a door in the back opening with a little creak, and a dwarf in scale armor steps out. He adjusts his glasses a little as he looks around, chewing on his lip for a moment, then claps his hands together excitedly as he spots you. "Ah, excellent! You've all made it! Wonderful, wonderful." He steps closer to the table, his tidily kept beard bouncing with his excited gait. All of you immediately notice this guy is rich. He has jewelry and other accroutements on his person that probably could fund a place like this for weeks, if not longer. "I am exceedingly glad you have all decided to respond to our invitation. It's never an easy thing, you see, approaching characters that are cut from your cloth. Wonderful, yes, quite. Now, I'm certain you have all had quite enough of master Starag's hospitality. Would you care to join us in a more private place?" He gestures through the door he came from, and those of you able to see past it can see a lightly shimmering veil of air, and beyond it a lavishly decorated room.
|
# ? Jun 27, 2018 15:06 |
|
Slim (Silmgrok Stonefist) Character Sheet Slim stands up immediately, leaving his half finished ale. Time to get out of The public eye. The Stonefists have no love for dwarves, this isn't some overly elaborate scheme by his uncle. And there's clearly money to be made here. As he gets to the door, he suddenly remembers this isn't a solo job. He stops and turns to the table, holding the door open. "Uhhhhh... ladies first?"
|
# ? Jun 27, 2018 17:01 |
|
Donata Longclaw Character sheet Donata raises an eyebrow as the dwarf, laden with so much jewellery that he jingled, walks in as though he'd found the group at a respectable stand at the races and not in the back of a dingy tavern. He's like a fatter gnome. Inisght: 1d20+4 11 Still, the excitement seemed genuine, and there was no reason to think that this was some extremely convoluted scheme to catch 6 people at once. Not yet. "Go in." She told the bug bear as she brushed past him, ducking through the doorway.
|
# ? Jun 27, 2018 19:40 |
|
Yren looks at Layla with a mix of amusement and, oddly, appreciation? She nods her affirmative and the conversation shifts to another topic. When the dwarf eventually makes his presence known, Yren is all to pleased to finally move forward with the meeting. While she wouldn't mind whiling away the time with some members of this crew, even she's been starting to get a little impatient. She was ostensibly called here for a job, after all, and road expenses have left her pockets light. She hoists up her pack and makes for the door pretty much as soon as the dwarf beckons the group, though the much longer-legged Slim and Donata alreay have a head start on her. Perfectly willing to have a door held for her, Yren slips in behind Donata. "My thanks, Slim." She gives him a little wave as she goes. There's a lot she still wants to know about this whole setup, but she knows she's not going to get answers by waiting around.
|
# ? Jun 28, 2018 09:07 |
|
Val finishes off the last few droplets of her drink before she stands up. While she may have enjoyed spending a few more minutes getting to know them all a little better, there's work to be done now. Adopting a slightly more serious stance now, she makes for the door, curious at what job the rich-looking dwarf has for them. "Aren't you a gentleman?" She says to Slim, with a hint of amusement in her voice, "Thanks," she gives him a quick pat on his big shoulders before she walks in, ready to start whatever the job might be.
|
# ? Jun 28, 2018 17:41 |
|
The combination of not having seen too many Dwarves in person and not having interacted with too many rich people in person (other than stealing from them, of course) leaves Layla totally unsure of how to act around the bedazzled dwarf. She cautiously walks through the door, nodding and politely thanking Slim for holding it before waiting inside.
|
# ? Jun 28, 2018 18:23 |
|
Thia sips at her whiskey as they wait, though in the end she's barely touched it. She has no real tolerance for hard liquor, though she manages an appreciation of the finer qualities of masterly distilled liquor this beverage surely lacked. She is perfectly content to wait for the others to pass through the door. Once Donata has managed her passage unharmed, Thia's gaze rests solely on the nervous bugbear holding the door. She waits seated at the table, finger running along the rim of her mostly full glass, until Valeria begins to step through the door. Even then Thia manages to make it just on Layla's heels. She looks Slim dead in the eyes as she passes through the door with the barest hint of a smirk on her lips. GenuineRevelry fucked around with this message at 02:11 on Jun 29, 2018 |
# ? Jun 29, 2018 00:03 |
|
Slim slips through the door after Thia, looking back to make sure no one is survailing them. Perception (Tavern): 1d20+5 16 Doing so, he also realizes he's half blocking the door for our new fancy dwarf friend, and awkwardly holds it open from the other side, leaving room for him to walk under Slim's lanky, hairy arm. "Erm, after you, sir... dwarf."
|
# ? Jun 29, 2018 01:19 |
|
"That's quite alright, mister Stonefist - or Slim, I believe it was. May I call you Slim? I must close the door behind you, anyways." The jolly dwarf gestures for you to move forward, and as the physical door falls shut, you also notice that a second door closes before all of you are gathered in the foyer. It is of clear craftsmanship, the floor a fine oaken wood covered in a nice rug that those of you with enough cultured upbringing place as being of a Calimshan style, though in contrast to your new dwarf friend, the other decorations are spartan at best; no expensive paintings, no antique furniture. Slim: Before the doors close, you don't notice anybody watching you in particular, though the dwarf and the barkeep exchange a nod of understanding. "Very good, very good. Follow me!" The dwarf proceeds you through a door into a large study of some sort, covered wall to wall with bookcases. In the middle, there is a giant table, covered in a map of Faerun with some pins in it, as well as various other loose sheaves and rolls of parchment. You also see, perhaps to your surprise, another dwarf. Similarly to your host, he is decked in all manner of jewellery, though he is clothed in a red robe instead of scale armor, and his expression is much more critical instead of hospitable. He gives you a nod of recognition as you enter, but his manner is much more reserved, and he lets your first host get in the speech. "Now that we're safe from prying eyes and ears, I think we can get to the heart of the matter. You, I imagine, have already introduced yourselves to one another, and we, obviously, already know who you are. My name is Baern, and this is Morgran." Baern comes around to the other end of the table to stand beside his partner, and noticing them side by side, you can see similar features in their faces. "We require your assistance in a matter of misconduct; or rather, multiple matters towards a single goal, I should say. You are, obviously, chosen because of your skills in the areas of larceny and misappropriation - and we would never think of doing such a thing without having the blessing of the Shadowlord himself, certainly." The dwarf gives a gentle bow of respect towards Thia. "The matter in question is the retrieval of roughly two dozen objects, scattered around Faerun. Some are in possession of private collectors, others are wards of kings, clergy or otherwise powerful entities. Your job is to infiltrate the various locations, grab the objects in question, and bring them to us, one by one. Time is not a problem here. Barring the lives of the persons involved that may give you windows as needed, we have patiently waited to put this plan together, and so we can patiently wait until it is complete. You may take as long as you wish for any given task. But we must insist that, once you complete one job, you will come find us, and bring us the desired object. This is to ensure we at least have part of what we want, in the case of...misfortune befalling you. You understand, certainly, that this job comes with dangers, and we must insure ourselves as best we can." A ghostly-looking man comes in bearing a tray of finger foods - Cormyran olives and grapes, Calimshan spiced sausage and dates, different cheeses from the Dalelands, and thin slices of rye bread with cured fish. He goes round once for each of you, letting you take what you please, before setting it down on the table and leaving as quietly as he came. Baern looks very pleased, then continues. "Ah, of course, if you wish for anything more to drink, you need but say so. We should never wish to be associated with poor hospitality, not at all. Now, before we continue, have you any questions?"
|
# ? Jun 29, 2018 06:25 |
|
Character Sheet Huh. It wasn't a trap after all. Instead this was straight out of one of Jassin's stories. This was how he was gonna make a name for himself. This was what Slim had been waiting for ever since he got out. He might not know how to talk good to the rest of the crew, but these dwarves weren't messing around. They must be at least as talented as he was. This is probably too good to be true, but that hinged on the unspoken part of the sales pitch they'd just been given. Through a mouthful of spiced sausage and a hunk of cheese that was likely meant to be shared, Slim immediately puts forth the questions he assumes are on everyone's mind: "What's it pay? Each or per gig? And how much upfront? 'N can I get some more o' these sausages to take with? They're really good." Relentless fucked around with this message at 02:49 on Jun 30, 2018 |
# ? Jun 29, 2018 06:48 |
|
Feeling a bit peckish after not having had anything to eat at the table earlier, and ever curious about landfolk delicacies, Yren takes a sampling of each hors d'oeuvre. The fish on rye she takes a little begrudgingly. Her early curiosity about landfolk fish dishes had left her with a buffet of disappointments, and following ventures into that genre of cuisine have rarely yielded anything more than mediocre. As for the dwarves' attempt, Yren goes at it in small bites, considering the taste as she slowly chews. She's definitely had worse. It's at least recognizable (as herring), unlike many landfolk attempts at aquatic cookery she's been party to. The flavour's not nearly as fresh or as bold as the tritons make it, but to give credit where credit is due, Yren has to admit that curing does go a good way to making up for what landborne cooking inherently lacks. She wouldn't exactly recommend it, but given the dessicated piscine desolation she's been subjected to since coming ashore, she marks it as a resolute effort. She loves the olives, though. When Slim poses a few questions to their hosts, as artless as he may be, Yren finds herself agreeing. "Such questions crave us jointly." She has more to say, but prioritizes, nibbling at a piece of well-aged and fulsomely aromatic piece of cheese. "Anon. What'll be the measure of thy clienthood? Will we be in thy counsel from enter to egress, or will we set to our cunnings with an address and a tale of our fixèd prize?" Wol fucked around with this message at 08:32 on Jun 29, 2018 |
# ? Jun 29, 2018 08:08 |
|
Morgran speaks up for the first time. Where Baern's voice was jolly and perhaps reminded some of you of a doting old caretaker, Morgran's gravelly tone is all business. "Successful delivery will grant each of you 200 gold per object. Certain individual objects may be located in more dangerous dwellings, which will be compensated adequately in turn; if you prove yourself capable." He adjusts his glasses, giving each of you a critical eye. It seems he's not quite as convinced of your skills as Baern seems to be. The other dwarf leans forward on the table, his expression turning a bit more coy. "Of course, being located where they are, I have no doubt there is plenty to take from the vaults and other safeholds that you may enter. You are free to take whatever you can carry. Including, Slim, these sausages...though I'm afraid you may not be able to take them from this dwelling. It is magical in nature, and anything inside is confined to the limits of the abode, disappearing upon egress. However, I can give you the information for a trader whom I know deals in similar imports from Calimshan, if you like them." Morgran interjects with a stern finger. "Be warned, however. The retrieval of the objects should be your primary priority. Do not let your greed endanger the success of your tasks. Should you be caught in any way, or have the guards on your heels, we shall not aid you. You will see us only if you successfully return." "Which brings us to your question, Miss Sivaath." Baern's pronunciation of the triton's name is as good as anything that might be expected. "The means of the burglary shall be left entirely to your devising. The reason we hired you lot is for your skills, and your thieves' eyes, which we unfortunately lack. Of course, we will give you whatever information we can regarding the locations and persons involved. However," he reaches into a pocket, retrieving a stone slightly smaller than your palm, "once you have successfully managed to retrieve the object in question, you can contact us through this sending stone, and we shall give you a location to meet us." He places the stone on the table, for whomever among you to take. Wahad fucked around with this message at 09:27 on Jun 29, 2018 |
# ? Jun 29, 2018 08:25 |
|
The moment the sending stone is placed on the table Thia's is already reaching out to take it. She scoops it up with a bit of a skeptical glance, first at the stone itself which she rolls around in the palm of her hand as if to feel every groove and curve, and then at Baern and Morgran themselves. "You gain blessings from the Lord of Shadows in spilt wine and loose coin. Ill gotten gains placed on his altar." She hefts the stone in her palm and lets her hand under it's weight once, twice, then three times. Weighing just as much the stone itself as the offer before them. "You want more than his blessing. You want favor." It's a minor distinction to someone outside of worship and clergy, perhaps, but to Thia it means the world. "The wind at their backs and the Master of All Thieves at their side. How could your hired help fail you then?" She seems unamused. Not quite nonplussed but certainly still skeptical of the whole ordeal. "These objects are of great importance to you, or some endeavor of yours, and you've gone to great lengths to make sure we know just how far your reach extends." She places the stone on the table again, "400 gold per object, each. Other factors will still be weighed and considered upon completion of any individual job." Thia manages an awfully mediocre 10 on her Persuasion check. GenuineRevelry fucked around with this message at 09:47 on Jun 29, 2018 |
# ? Jun 29, 2018 09:03 |
|
Morgran lets out a grunt that vaguely sounds like he's impressed, leaning forward as he puts his hands on the table and meets Thia's gaze. "A fair bargain. However, you still must prove yourself. 200 each for the first job. It is a simple thing, that those of your supposed skill should be able to complete without too much difficulty. 200 each for the second job, which is more involved, and will require a greater task of your abilities. Should you complete both in a manner that is satisfactory, then we can talk about raising the coinage for the other tasks."
|
# ? Jun 29, 2018 09:38 |
|
Character sheet Donata slowly chews on a piece of sausage, keeping her eyes on the second heavily jewelled dwarf, this one being a lot more serious than the other. "Any order to the items?" She asked, swallowing her own mouthful. "Said first one's easier, which one is first?"
|
# ? Jun 29, 2018 19:05 |
|
Val has been quietly listening as they talk, her entire demeanor shifting to a more professional one. She rubs her chin, as she considers her next few words carefully, "And is there anything we should be aware about these objects?" She asks, finally speaking up, "If we are to retrieve them for you, then I would think it's only fair that you tell us a little about them, don't you think so?"
|
# ? Jun 29, 2018 21:54 |
|
Character Sheet Well, that pay is solid so start and may be getting better. They MIGHT be lying about how magical this sausage is, though. Better quietly grab a few extras just in case... Slight Of Hand: Stealing sausages: 2#1d20+7
|
# ? Jun 30, 2018 02:52 |
|
"Certainly, certainly. These questions lead us nicely into the information we can give you regarding the first task." Baern gestures at the table in front of you, and the image of a small, dark wood box appears on the table. It is about six inches wide, a foot long, and maybe four inches high. The top is carved with an intricate knotwork pattern, and there is a small latch on the side made from a golden material. "This is what you'll be recovering. The pattern may vary per specific box; but the first box should have this decoration and the measurements should be correct otherwise. It should weigh about a pound and a half. Simple, no?" Baern gives you all a broad smile, letting you study the image of the box as you wish. Morgran, in turn, projects another magical image; that of a young, human woman, with long, blonde hair. Her gentle features are set in an expression of ostensible kindness; though there is a certain haughtiness in her bright blue eyes. "Meet Lady Geraldine Ursola Viscountess Hazelburn," Morgran starts, and the image makes a small curtsy towards the invited thieves. "She has some years ago become the sole heir of the Hazelburn family fortune, after the passing of her parents. The Hazelburn family is old money in Waterdeep, though their relevance has long since faded. Which the Viscountess finds absolutely abhorrent; being of noble blood, she thinks herself entitled to more than she is given, and spends more of her fortune than she can afford." Pointing towards the map, Morgran draws your attention to one of the pins in the map, located a small distance outside Waterdeep. "The Hazelburn estate is located a few miles outside Waterdeep. The box should be located in the family safe, along with whatever other minor heirlooms the Viscountess has inherited. The grounds are likely patrolled by the house guards, and Hazelburn employs a handful of servants that could betray your presence." Looking back at the lot of you, Morgran frowns. "Note that discretion should be a priority; but if you are detected, the mansion is far enough out of the city that you may make an escape without alerting the entire City Guard. As far as we have managed to find out, she employs about a dozen guards, perhaps a bit more. That is about all we can tell you with certainty; other employees or security measures you will have to find out for yourself." Baern cuts in again a moment after his partner is done. "To answer your question, Miss Longclaw; there is, in fact, an order to things, which we have determined both offers us the greatest chances of success in retrieving as many objects as possible before there is a serious chance of your failure, and a timely manner in doing so, by letting you take the nearest locations first." He smiles. "A lot of planning has gone into this, and we hope it will bear fruit through the means of your reputed skills." If either of the dwarves notice Slim's pocketing of extra sausages, they don't seem to care. "Now, if that should be all, we shall leave you, and let you get to the devising of your plan. If you wish, this space will remain available to you for six more hours. There is food and drink available - just ask one of the servants - and a few bathrooms, if you wish to freshen up from your travels." Baern spreads his hands, awaiting any final questions, while Morgran starts to gather some of the parchments in a messenger bag.
|
# ? Jun 30, 2018 07:13 |
|
Character sheet "Magic defenses?" Donata asked "Alarms, long talk tricks, spell seers?"
|
# ? Jun 30, 2018 07:43 |
|
Layla smiles at Donata. "If there's any, I can find em. They made it sound like they ain't know anything 'bout that stuff," she says as she looks up at the dwarves, "Though, if y'all do know anything, I ain't gonna mind no head start," she says with a smile. After allowing a moment for a response, she asks a few more questions, "So, what's in th' box? Is it valit...volotil... I mean is it dangerous? Like... is it finna blow up on us if we ain't careful? What happens if we open it?"
|
# ? Jul 1, 2018 07:09 |
|
|
# ? Apr 27, 2024 01:43 |
|
"How about the layout of the grounds surrounding the estate?" Thia plucks a single grape from its place on the tray rolling it between her fingers for a moment before she deigns to eat it, "You must have some practical knowledge of the place."
|
# ? Jul 1, 2018 15:18 |