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[Mike M]

Nezumi:

Spoiler

If you have the opportunity and cause to split up, in your true form you'd have advantage on tracking by smell, and I'd also give you advantage on stealth since you'd be Tiny-sized, and even if spotted no one's going to think it suspicious to see you in the forest.

Nyx--assuming the form of a sleek and lithe panther--and Sagishi split off from the rest of the group and slink into the woods. Once clear of the tree line, it becomes apparent that the hobgoblin fled along a narrow game trail, possibly the same route of ingress they traveled to set up their ambush.

Following the trail of broken foliage and blood, the two scouts round a hairpin turn in the path and find the hobgoblin facing them at the edge a small clearing, a horrific expression on his face. The shock is only momentary, however, as the archer stands with his arms limp at his sides and his feet bear no weight.

The hobgoblin is dead, pinioned to the tree by a dagger driven to the hilt through his neck. His own dagger, if the empty leather sheathe at his hip is any indication. Whoever did this took a moment to coat their right hand in their victim's blood and leave a great red hand print across the deceased archer's face. The meaning of this act is anyone's guess.

#

Back at the site of the ambush, the hobgoblin corpses are dragged over to the side of the road and searched. They have little of value on their persons, but they seem to have acquired their weapons from an earlier ambush, for they are far too elaborate to have been crafted by hobgoblin hands. The blades are all but ruined in their current condition, but there are a few decorative gemstones on the hilts and pommels that can be pried from their settings. Combined with the coinage they had on them, it all amounts to about 250 gold pieces worth of loot.

Laid side by side in such a fashion, it becomes immediately apparent that the individual hobgoblins have different tattoos and armor markings, which would seem to indicate that they belonged to different clans working together, something that would be anathema to hobgoblin culture as it is known. What they have in common, however, is a bloody-red hand print--the color too vibrant to be actual blood, thankfully--placed square on their right shoulders, in some case on top of and obscuring some other brand.

Keranos's examination of the blood is unfruitful. If the final archer's reaction at the end of battle is any indication, however, it may be that whatever had caused their altered state was on the verge of expending itself just prior to the start of the battle. The captain is found to have a bottle on his person. It’s empty, but the pungent residue of some dark, viscous contents remain inside. The only labeling outside is a crudely printed illustration of some sort of vegetable with a cartoonish smiling face. It tastes terrible, but leaves a tingling stimulation on the tongue where Keranos dabs it with his finger.

Codex updates:

Hobgoblins​

​

 

[KittenMaster]

Fhiess' anxiety finally begins to wane once the party is given a chance to potentially make it out safe if the two scouts find it is too dangerous to approach the hideout.

When it comes time to drag the bodies and examine them, Fhiess takes the bow and arrows left by one of the archers, hoping to find it still usable. When he notices war paint on the shoulders, he retrieves a small, flat knife where the blade is bent stair step near the handle and uses it to scrape some of the paint to examine it. This should also inadvertently reveal whatever brand was on their shoulder originally.

 

[DeadPhoenix]

Nyx will use her keen panther nose to try and track down the person with the bloody hand.

 

[Axelhortsemchi]

As the scouting group leaves and the others examine the hobgoblins for evidence of what caused them to act as they did, Ludwig looks over the bodies for valuables and removes anything that looks sellable. "Ah, not a bad total here. Looks like we get a heroism pay, everyone!"

Once the loot is taken care of, he heads back to the side of the wagon and takes a rest off his hooves. That javelin hit him harder than he expected, and if they might be charging back in soon, anything he can replenish will help.

 

[Nezumi]

Sagishi shys away from the gruesome display at first. His first instinct is to return to the others immediately but when looking at Nyx in her panther form he can already see her trying to get the scent of whomever did this.
"We should be careful, there is a chance that this little display was made for us and someone is already expecting us."

He feels tempted to tell the gnome to further split up but decides to first look around the scene little bit more.

Perception: 1D20+2 = [11]+2 = 13

 

[ThLunarian]

"The hobgoblin tribes are working together," Keranos sighs, with the same level annoyance one might hear from a housewife who has just discovered that there were not one, but two mice loose in the kitchen. "I had no idea they were smart enough for such an endeavor. Seems likely that we're dealing with either some sort of preternaturally intelligent super-hobgoblin, or some outside force has united them. Were I to hazard a guess, I would expect the former." Despite his attempts to suppress his excitement at the prospect, a small smile curls the edges of his lips

He holds up the empty bottle. "This substance may hold the key to explaining the influence that our super-hobgoblin mastermind wields. Should our foray into the forest not bear fruit, then we must needs bring this to an alchemist for further analysis."

 

[Mike M]

Nyx's keen sense of smell is able to discern seven distinct hobgoblin scents. One belongs to the dead body in their midst, and presuming that five of the remainder belong to the ones slain out by the road, that leaves one unaccounted for. There is also the scent of something canid that cannot have been gone for long.

Sagishi's cursory investigation allows him to speculate with reasonable certainty that this was probably some sort of makeshift campsite, though they couldn't have been outfitted to stay for long. There're the remains of a fire and some piles of leaf litter that probably served as bedding. It's impossible to determine their numbers by the footprints alone, but there is one set that is distinct as being notably larger and deeper. There are also what look like paw prints belonging to dog or wolf, but far larger than your ordinary variety. There are also a small number of glass bottles that would be near identical to the one Keranos found on the captain if one were to compare them.

#

There's nothing unusual about the red pigment that Fhiess would be able to determine from a field evaluation, though a more thorough analysis may be possible later. The devices of the brands are all simple designs, though none are shared between them. There's a lightning bolt, a sword or some sort of blade, three diagonal lines reminiscent of a slash from claws, and some that look to be characters of an unfamiliar language.

 

[KittenMaster]

<What kind of knowledge roll can I make if Fhiess knows if the more simple symbols represent anything?>

 

[Nezumi]

Sagishi points at the larger foot,- and paw prints. "Those don't look like a Hobgoblin's to me. Which means that either someone did us a favor and finished this before we could or..." He stops to ponder the question wether someone killing the Hobgoblin might pose a danger to them. Afterall maybe it was just one of the Rangers? But why would they have left their weapon behind like that?
"Anyway I think it is save to say that this here was their actual camp. Meaning that there probably isn't another hideout. I think we should go back to the others and tell them what we found here."

 

[Mike M]

((A history check may reveal more about the markings, but it'd be a pretty high DC since their meanings wouldn't be widely known by outsiders))

 

[Axelhortsemchi]

((I'm guessing it's a language none of us know? Otherwise Ludwig or Keranos could try to read it)(

 

[Mike M]

((It's presumably goblinish, which I'm pretty sure no one has))

 

[KittenMaster]

He shakes his head to himself. The symbols look like they could be designed by anyone but don't appear to be anything official.

 

[Axelhortsemchi]

Ludwig looks up as Keranos and Fheiss give their assessments. "Yeah, that vial's definitely important for figuring out whatever's going on. Hopefully Sagishi and Nyx find something. If not, looks like we'll have to get more out of these clues at the capital."

 

[ThLunarian]

((I am going ahead and adding 50 GP to my character sheet under the assumption that we are splitting the loot five ways, just to make sure we're on the same page here))

 

[DeadPhoenix]

Nyx transforms back into her normal gnomey self, "Yeah, no telling how far away they are now, lets head back."

 

[Mike M]

((Hope you guys like travel montages))

As the delegation concludes their investigation and examination of the scene, the rest of the caravan catches up. Many nervous glances are cast at the signs of carnage in the road and the tidy row of corpses off to the side. “Let’s be away with this place,” Barrow says, clambering back into the front of the wagon. “I want as much distance between us and this place as we can manage by nightfall.”

The oppressive clouds don’t relent for the rest of the day as the wagons and their occupants press forward as far as they can before the failing light makes further travel impossible. While the various parties undertaking this journey strike their own camps, the distance between them is notably less than they were the previous night at the roadside shrine. No one comes right out and organizes a watch rotation, but there’s no shortage for cautious eyes through the dark hours of the night.

#

The following morning arrives without incident, and most of the clouds of the previous day have blown away. Despite the turnaround in the weather, the air about the caravan is full of caution as everyone prepares to embark. Barrow does not rush ahead of anyone this day, but neither do any others drag their feet in getting back on the road.

As they travel along, the forest falls away from thoroughfare once more, leaving a comfortable margin of grasslands in all directions that would make it near impossible for anyone or anything to move against the wagons unnoticed. It is not until the white banners of Kingshield come into view late that morning, however, that the sense of apprehension hanging over the procession dissipates.

The Kingsfort is as far as some of the traveling merchants go, having either intended to only come this far to do trade with the fort and neighboring settlements, or having lost the nerve to continue all the way to Castle Telmur in the wake of the hobgoblin ambush. Upon hearing the news of the attack, a squadron is dispatched at a full gallop down the road to follow up on the report of the wolf-mounted warlord and the oddity of members of warring clans working together in cooperation.

There is little at the fort besides steel and soldiers, and the delay costs the caravan little more than half an hour before they are on the road again, pressing on as far as possible before night falls once more. Again, a watch rotation seemingly coalesces of its own volition, though there is a feeling that at this point it is more of a formality than anything, as most people seem supremely confident in the Kingsfort’s ability to resolve the unexpected hobgoblin issue.

On the fourth day of their journey, the caravan passes the walled city of Nodoff. Barrow keeps to the main road and skirts the edge of the city without passing through its gates, insisting that there are still many hours of light to travel by, and that it makes no sense to stop in the middle of the day so he can pay good coin for the pleasure of losing at game tables or catching some pox from a pleasure house. This reservation about the character of Nodoff is not shared by all, however, and the caravan leaves the city a few wagons lighter for those who have arrived at their final destination. The rest spend another night under the stars between settlements.

They pass Fort Kingsgate on the fifth day, identical in construction and contents to Kingshield from two days prior. The rangers stationed here have already been informed of the unusual hobgoblin activity and assure all who ask that they’ve redoubled their patrols and tasked their most experienced trackers with the matter. The security of the realm is paramount, they insist, and in the absence of an external threat, that means defanging the goblinoids before they can do harm to more civilized folk. No one stays behind this time as the caravan moves through; all who remain are well and truly bound for Castle Telmur.

The sixth day ends on the outskirt of some nameless village that lies at the crossroads between the northbound road that the caravan has traveled and the westbound road that leads into the interior of the kingdom toward Kingsword and beyond, potentially all the way back to Remdormo if they so chose to take the long way home. This close to the promised festivities of the Boy King’s birthday celebration, the village is bursting at the seams without anywhere near the capacity to house the hordes of travelers descending upon the capital. The caravan is but one of several encampments besieging the populace, and it comes to light that instead of selling to their multitude of guests, the villagers are actually bartering for wares from their visitors from a disadvantaged position. It seems that they sold everything they had to the first few waves of travelers at exorbitant prices, only to realize they had not left enough for themselves and had no choice but to use their new-found gains to purchase supplies from subsequent wagon trains at even more exorbitant prices.

Halfway through the seventh day, the towering minarets and spires of Castle Telmur come into view over the horizon. As the day wears on, more and more of the castle--castle in name only, for it is more accurately described as a palace--and the surrounding city comes into view, until at last the whole thing is laid bare against the golden sky at sunset. Pointed steeples, towering walls, and flying buttresses emerge from the center of a mass of buildings far larger than any other city on the continent, all of it in an impossibly perfect white marble and shingled in white metal (rumored to be platinum, but more likely electrum). Surrounding the city are a carpet of perfectly manicured farmlands, with another ring of settlements built around the outer perimeter. From the sky, it would look not unlike the concentric rings of a target.

Night falls as Barrow’s wagon pulls through the gates to the city at last and hops off the wagon to tend to the business of where Remdormo’s gift will be stored and the horses stabled. After a few minutes conversation with various officials, he returns to the wagon. “Welcome to Telmur,” he says as he pulls out his pipe and his tinderbox with which to light it. “Whimsley said t’bring ye here, but he didn’t say nothin’ ‘bout puttin’ you up fer th’night, so yer on yer own for that.” He stabs the stem of his pipe toward the ground beneath his feet. “But I want t’see yer sorry hides here t’morrow at ten bells sharp! An’be ready with whatever it is yer’ll be presentin’ King Dio, so don’t go overdoin’ it t’night, ye hear?” He dismisses the delegation with a wave of his hand. “Now get outta here, I’m sick of seein’ yer faces.”

Keranos he holds back with a restraining arm on his shoulder. “That goes fer ye, too. Ye rode in me wagon all the way here, I expect ye t’earn yer fare by helpin’ set things in order so this lot don’t make complete and total fools of themselves before th’king. Much as such a thing be possible with this ghastly thing, at any rate.”

The streets of Telmur course with life, like the most enthusiastic of Whimsley’s festivals at their peak, but an order of magnitude larger. The buildings tower on either side of the well-maintained streets, a slice of the starred sky with shimmering auroras and glowing moons visible overhead. Despite the pending festivities--well, pending them starting officially, at any rate--there does not seem to be a significant shortage of beds at inns, vendors in the street, or seats in theaters or at gaming tables. Nor does there seem to be any sign of things slowing down or stopping.

“Ten bells!” Barrow bellows as the group disperses. “Be here at ten bells!”

((The night is yours, but Barrow will probably be pretty put out if you’re late tomorrow. Also, leave a beat before your character turns in for the night in case there are some developments for some of you.))

Codex updates:

Nodoff​

​

 

[ThLunarian]

Keranos raises a skeptical eyebrow at Barrow. "My friend, I will gladly help you with anything you need in order to pay for my fare, but you may want to word your request more carefully. Were I to follow your instructions to the letter, you would wake up to find that travesty of a statue destroyed." He winks at Barrow, then slips from his grasp and sets off to explore the town.

The first thing he does is seek out a jeweler. He shows the jeweler his recently acquired Holy Symbol and asks if he can have five identical pieces. ((It looks like they cost 5 GP each, so that's what I'm basing the quantity on))


The next thing he does is find a properly busy street corner. He flips over a nearby empty crate and launches into a sermon.

"Listen well, for Keranos, the True God of Storms has returned! He seeks out the worthy among you!"

The speech closely resembles the one he gave in Remdormo, except this time he uses the original symbol as a prop.

Persuasion: [17] + 5 = 22

He goes on for about an hour, or until something happens to change his plans.

 

[Axelhortsemchi]

Once dismissed, Ludwig sets out to take care of priority number one. After selling his share of the hobgoblin's loot, he needs to get this unstable fiat currency converted. It takes a bit of searching, but he eventually finds a money changer. Unable to fit through the door, Ludwig lowers his neck and sticks his head through the door. The man behind the counter has his back turned when Ludwig's neck enters, so the J'raffa tries to get his attention. "Excuse me, I was hoping to exchange my fiat currency for its equivalent in adamantine chunks." The merchant begins to turn around, sighing. "Oh great, another one of HOLY FUCKING SHIT!" Any exasperation in the man's voice is replaced by shock at the site of the exotic creature whose neck stretches from the entrance of the store to his counter.

"I have 350 gold, is that enough for a conversion?" Ludwig says, producing a small pouch. The man continues to stare agape as he weighs the bag of gold, consults his value per ounce chart, and produces an appropriate amount of adamantine. His mouth still agape, he puts the bag of gold away, walks past Ludwig's sprawling neck to flip the open sign to closed, and walks into the back to go lie down. Ludwig is unimpressed with man's people skills, but the conversion seems fair, so he puts the adamantine away and leaves with a thanks.

Ludwig walks along the streets of the capital wondering what to do next. He still wants to have a chat with Sagishi, but he figures that can wait until tomorrow or later. Most of the larger shops are closed at this hour, leaving either the nightlife or patrolling the streets in search of guard overreach. While the latter is a vital service, Ludwig feels like some fun is overdue. But where to go? The street vendors could be fun for a short time, but that won't work for long. Bars are a decent time, and if an inn is attached, maybe one can make an arrangement with him for the night. The talk of brothels while passing through Nodoff was a pleasant surprise, as he figured this continent was too in love with regulation to have those. He wouldn't mind riding the Laffer curve of a well-versed entrepreneur, but on further consideration, there are probably no species here that could do that without extensive magic involved. Certainly not worth the novelty. If there are brothels, maybe there's a drug den. Those are always fun, but Ludwig needs to be up early in the morning, so that probably won't work either.

While contemplating his dilemma, Ludwig sees a few bouncers storm out of a bar, yelling something about not getting paid enough to stand around. What wretches, probably part of a union or something, Ludwig thinks while scowling in their direction. Deciding this presents an opportunity, Ludwig walks around to the window and pokes his neck in, getting the bartender's attention. "I see you just lost your bouncers. Perhaps I could fill in for the night in exchange for a few drinks and somewhere to sleep?"

The bartender does a double take when he realizes what's talking to him, but as a bartender in the capital, he's seen enough things to regain his composure. "A few drinks I can do, but there's nowhere here big enough to fit you. Do a good enough job bouncing and I can see about putting in a good word with one of the warehouse owners around here."

Pleased to have struck a bargain, Ludwig gladly accepts. By now, it is evident that everyone in the bar has stopped talking among themselves and are staring at the J'raffa poking through the window. Not wanting to ruin his job by killing the atmosphere, Ludwig grabs a mug of ale from the counter in his mouth, upends it, and slams it down, saying "No need to stop on my account, be merry!" The bar patrons promptly resume drinking and being merry, Ludwig's spectacle snapping them out of the absurdity of his presence there in the first place.

All goes well for a while. Drinks are getting sold at a good rate, things are relatively peaceful, all is as it should be. A little later, two patrons start getting into a shouting match. As it escalates to pushing and becomes clear that fists are about to fly, the bartender yells "That's it, you're out of here!" Taking that as a cue, Ludwig pushes more of his neck through the window, lunging at the instigator. Opening his mouth, he bites hard enough to secure the patron without hurting him and pulls out, depositing him outside of the bar.

This was a mistake. All hell broke loose. The room full of drunk people interpreted this sudden action as the bar being under attack. Panic broke out almost immediately, as screaming patrons began rushing for the door and throwing bottles at where they last saw the J'raffa. The bartender yelled for them to calm down, but one of the bottles of what was apparently a harder liquor hit a candle, starting a fire. An effigy of King Dio rested on the wall above the bar's counter. As the fire spread and people were trampled trying to get out, the flames licked the eyes of the young king. It almost looked as if the statue was rejoicing at the carnage.

Ludwig frantically sought water to help put out the fire, but by then, the damage was done. The bar had taken a good bit of damage, and three patrons were trampled to death in the panic. Some of the witnesses drunkenly described a giant murder snake shooting through the window to attack them and setting fire to the place with its hellish laser eyes. An interview taken about twenty minutes later was transcribed as "It wash horrible! The murder snake just busted in and was all 'Pew! Pew' I'm lucky to be alive, and on the night before the festival? What a travesty! What a travesty..." The drunken patron breaks down into tears before deciding that the nearby stand serving kabobs have the most delicious looking kabobs he's ever seen in his life.

Sufficient to say, the bartender is furious. "Gods damn it you oaf! There goes my business on the eve of the festival! I might have to shut down trying to cover all this!" Ludwig, looking sad, says "Does this mean you won't put in word with the warehouse owner?"

"NO!"

Trying to salvage things, Ludwig Sticks his neck back in through the window, saying "I can help clean things up! I can even fix up the counter given enough time." The bartender tries to shoo out the J'raffa before eventually throwing his hands in the air and saying "Fine! Just go three blocks down, take a left, go two more blocks, and when you get to the warehouses, ask for Crooked Pete. Tell him Jimmy Twolegs sent you and he'll shove you somewhere for the night. Just get out of my sight!"

"Thanks!" Ludwig begins to walk off, before turning back around and sticking his head through the window. "Twolegs? Really? Isn't that have having the last name Isahuman or something? That just seems like an asspull so I'm having a hard time believing that-"

"GET OUT OF MY SIGHT NOW!"

"Okay, fine. Sheesh." With that, Ludwig begins following the directions given to him to get to the warehouses. Luckily, any apprehension from the bar catastrophe is directed towards an unknown murder snake, and to Ludwig's credit, he looks nothing like a snake of any sort, especially when his body is visible. Assuming this housing arrangement works out, he should have no problem getting to the meeting spot by ten bells.

 

[Nezumi]

As they arrive in the busy streets of Telmur Sagishi has to fight his instincts to casually bump into people to lift their purses. Since his shopping trip in Remdormo had been cut short and he even got some additional coin from the little Hobgoblin encounter his own purse is still sufficiently full. So he excuses himself from the group and goes of to find a weapons dealer but not before asking around if anyone wants to meet up for drinks later and maybe even share a room at a tavern to save some money.

((I'll stop here to see if anyone takes him up on this before continuing. Though so far my only plan is to buy a crossbow.))

 

[KittenMaster]

<Fhiess needs a crossbow too, so he'll probably go with Sagishi in that case.

I've been trying to think of what I want Fhiess to do. He could probably find a subject for an alla prima but I doubt he has the time to do so.>

 

[Axelhortsemchi]

((Time rewind goooooo!))

Ludwig gladly agrees to get a few drinks later. He'll have to pass on the tavern room splitting due to not fitting in them, though.

 

[ThLunarian]

Keranos hears Sagishi's invitation prior to leaving the caravan, so after his street preaching session, he'll show up at the same bar as the others.

 

[KittenMaster]

Fhiess follows after Sagishi, "Wait! I need to find a weapon shop too. I'll come with you to find one."

 

[Nezumi]

"Awesome!" Sagashi says as the elf catches up to him. When they are slowly making their way through the streets of Telmur ti look for a weapons dealer Sagishi asks," So, what exactly is it you are presenting to the king? I saw Ludwig's and Nyx's performance and Keranos' story, though I'd wager he's not gonna do that a second time, but I don't remember seeing you and if my fruitless efforts on getting you to play that instrument for me are any indication, I'm guessing it is not gonna be musical performance we'll see from you." He winks friendly at those last words.

 

[KittenMaster]

The less athletic of the two is forced to catch his breath once he finally catches up. "My employer allowed me to bring-," he gasps, "one of my paintings I'm still working on, as well as a finished landscape that hadn't been sold yet."

He continues to follow along, "So how much are crossbows again?"

 

[Nezumi]

Sagishi shrugs and points at a weapon's dealer. "How about we ask and find out?"

About half an hour later the two of them step out of the shop, each 25 gold pieces lighter but with new and shiny crossbows strapped over their shoulders.

"Do you want to check out anything else or should we just head to the bar and waut for the others?"

((I'm gonna presume that we asked Barrow for a recommendation where to drink.))

 

[KittenMaster]

<Hm, I thought crossbows were 50 GP, and I just realized that I wouldn't be able to afford ammo if I bought one.>

 

[Nezumi]

((I think only heavy crossbows are 50gp and hand crossbows are 75gp but light crossbows are listed in the PHB with 25 gp. I assumed Fhiess would also get a light one. Also, if Fhiess needs some money he can always ask Sagishi since he'd gladly help out.))

 

[KittenMaster]

<Oh, OH. They're under Simple Weapons. I see it now. Yeah, he'll get one of those.>

He hmms, "I thought about flattering somebody with a quickly made portrait before the night is over, perhaps it would earn a bit of extra change to pay an inn's rent as well."

 

[Nezumi]

"Oh, that sounds like fun!" He looks around the street until he finds a spot he deems suiting for the task. Before the elf has time to react, Sagishi drags him over and climbs on a nearby crate.

"Get closer, dear people, and watch as the great Fhiess' swift brushes dance over the paper to create your likeness more beautiful than any mirror ever could. Want a gift for your lover so they won't forget you? Want to forever catch the memory of this beautiful day on paper? Step closer and have your portrait drawn by the great Fhiess! Only..." he leans over to Fhiess, whispering in the elf's ear, "I don't know this stuff very well, what would you say is a good price?"

Persuasion: 1D20+3 = [20]+3 = 23

((Lol, I guess that should draw in some customers ))

 

[KittenMaster]

<Oh gosh I have no clue how much it costs>

"Hmm, uh.." He scratches his head, "I was never the one to handle the prices."

 

[Nezumi]

"You should always know what your talents are worth." Sagishi replies in a mock chiding tone. He looks around the crowd, already seeing some interested faces. "How about 2 silver for a quick sketch and 10 silver for a slightly more elaborate portrait?"

((Not sure whether that's a bit too much or still not enough but it felt like a decent middle ground.))

 

[KittenMaster]

"Hmm, okay I suppose. That'll let me buy more canvas when I run out, at least."

<I am thinking of taking 10 on the more elaborate painting, and rolling for the sketches>

 

[Nezumi]

((Sounds like a good plan, Mike can still redcon it when he thinks it's too much or less I guess.))

"I could also go and get you some paper, might turn out cheaper in the long run. If there's anything else you need just tell me and I get it."

Sagishi turns to the curious crowd and announces the prices as they already draw closer. When Fhiess starts on the first customer he dashes of to get the supplies the elf asked for. On his return he resumes to entertain the waiting crowd with some light juggling and other shenanigans as Fhiess draws the portraits. He puts out a litle box in the hopes that someone might spare him a bit of silver as well.

Performance: 1D20+5 = [14]+5 = 19

 

[KittenMaster]

<Taking 10 on a 10 silver elaborate portrait, rolling dex for first cheaper one>

Dex crafting: 1D20+3+2 => (19 + 3 + 2) = 24

 

[DeadPhoenix]

((well... Im gone for the weekend, not sure how much i'll be able to post till sunday/monday when i get back.))

Nyx agrees to meet up for drinks later, but says she is going to get her own room. Till then though she will just wander around town looking for interesting sights and people.

 

[Mike M]

Barrow laughs mightily at Keranos’s veiled threat to destroy the statue that Whimsley has laid upon the delegation like a millstone about their necks. “Oy, I knew ye were a good lad since I first lay eyes on ye. Now go on and get out of here, hopefully godhood don’t interfere with yer ability t’enjoy yerself tonight.”

Keranos is able to find a jeweler without much difficulty and make his request to duplicate the token that Barrow bestowed upon him a week ago. The proprietor is a gnomish man with slender, clever fingers who inspects the necklace through a loupe that makes one eye appear to be hideously bulbous and distended from the rest of her face. “Hmmmm,” he muses as he peers at the representation of the moon as an astronomer might the genuine article through a telescope. “This is mighty fine craftsmanship right here. Mighty fine. Hard to believe this was just done with drawn glass, I’d put gold down that there must have been at least a little magic in the process to help it along.”

He removes the loupe and his eye assumes its regular proportions. “I can’t duplicate it exactly, but I can get you most of the way there. Now let’s see, where did I leave my glazes...” muttering to himself, the gnome putters about his workspace behind the counter, rattling through drawers and shelves in search of materials. Eventually he finds what he’s looking for and gets to work, using a set of very fine-tipped brushes and a magnifying lens almost as large as his face. In the practiced and economical motions of a master craftsman, he paints five ceramic beads in this fashion and takes them out back to fire them in a kiln. After a time, he returns with the finished result; Five beads that look very much like Keranos’s own necklace. Though they lack the same translucent quality, they have a pleasing smooth and glossy sheen. After Keranos selects the chains upon which they would be held, the jeweler collects his fee and thanks him for his business.

The proselytizing generates a stronger response than he did in Remdormo, perhaps owing to the greater number of people passing by who are not focused on their labors. A few families seem to react poorly to Keranos’s words, their eyes wide with fright as they hurry their children across the street and well away from the boy as quickly as they can, making hand signs as they go. Some engage in conversation just enough out of earshot that Keranos can only make out snatches of their contents, but they seem to carry at least some level of recognition with an undercurrent of confusion.

A pair of street urchins appear early on in the sermon and stay throughout with rapt attention. Their questions are a simplistic and unsophisticated as one would expect a child’s to be, but their minds also seem unburdened by a lifetime of countermanding dogma. They are grateful recipients of the necklaces if Keranos should choose to bestow them.

((That was a pretty solid roll and convincing people to change their faith is not an easy task, so I gave it a d6 to see how many would take the necklaces. I’m also pretty sure I just condensed like a day’s worth of ceramic work into an hour with that business about the kiln, but whatever.))

#

While exchanging his gold for adamantine, Ludwig has ample opportunity to examine the exchange rate charts and tables of the money changer. The amount exchanged out is indeed fair for the current rate, but the current rate has skyrocketed over recent weeks if the numerous notes and corrections to the chart is anything to go by. The same quantity of gold would have brought a much larger amount of adamantine a month ago—even a week ago, it would have been a notable difference. When asked about this, the money changer can only shrug and explain that there has been a run on adamantine and other such precious metals lately, driving up the price of the remaining supply. He has no idea what is behind the sudden interest, but seeing as how he stands to make a considerable profit off it, he’s perfectly content to keep any such questions to himself.

Whatever Ludwig’s thoughts on the situation, they are soon driven from his mind as a mysterious murder snake runs wild and sets a tavern to flame. Or at least that’s what the people are saying.

#

Sagishi’s history as a performer lends a certain panache to his attempts to draw a crowd to pay both attention and coinage to Fhiess’s talents. He also draws on his previous experience as, shall we say, a handler of monies and deftly negotiates and collects the fees for the portraits and sketches as the people line up. The idea of a street artist doing such work must somehow be some sort of unusual sight in Telmur, as inexplicable as that may sound, because in short order they have quite a line of people waiting. Fhiess burns through a considerable amount of art supplies in short order, but more than makes up for it in the fees collected.

((God damn, you people are rolling hot. Your total collection of silver is worth 10 gold after expenses.))

#

The party agrees to meet for an evening meal and libations before they seek accommodations for the night. There’s no shortage of establishments to choose from—save for the one that has unfortunately burned down recently—and they eventually decide upon a tavern called the Golden Memories. Its most attractive feature is that there is a table situated near the window up front, allowing Ludwig to join in without having to stick his neck too far into the tavern where it might get in people’s way. Also, he probably wouldn’t want to leave it exposed and unprotected with a murder snake running loose in the city, especially one with a penchant for targeting taverns.

The common room is warm and smells of wood smoke and heavily seasoned roast meat of some sort. The crowd is thick with the festivities looming, and serving girls navigate down the rows of wooden benches carrying trays of trenchers filled with stew above their head. Above the hearth is a canvas painted with the scene of a raucous celebration frozen in time, and Fhiess can tell even from across the room that it is a Nolzur original from his Debaucherous Period, a stretch of time where the artistic master indulged in every excess imaginable and captured it in his art.

The group at the table seated immediately next to them seems especially animated and boisterous, with a half-orc recounting some tale to his tablemates.

“And then you know what he do?” he asks, his Common heavily accented and imperfect.

“Oh god, not this again,” moans the human seated next to him.

“You know what he do? He use the anti-magic potion.”

“Really, you don’t need to get into all the small—“

“Lights in the room, go out. The haversack explodes, everything goes everywhere. Clothes. Documents. Tools. Everything. Total mess, utter chaos. And of course the teeth land right at the feet of the wizard, so now he some snake god monster who escapes us.”

The human hammers his fist on the table while the rest of the table roars with laughter, his face a deep red to contrast his green vest. “It seemed like a good idea at the time!” he insists.

“And then! And then he insist we send the owl! We send the owl to claw out wizard’s eyes! Wizard who is, again, some snake god monster now!”

"It seemed like a good idea at the time!"

The human moans and buries his spectacled face into his arms on the table as a fresh wave of laughter washes over the small audience.

 

[KittenMaster]

Aching arms exhausted from the short marathon into the evening hand over the last painting to the family it was made for, his face granting a polite smile. He declares his closing of service by announcing his need to join a gathering, and expresses thanks for allowing him to set shop.

While Sagishi counts (and presumably splits) the gold earnings, Fhiess takes a vial of distilled gelatinous cube and pours it into a pottery bowl, then uses it to clean the paint from his brushes to avoid damage, especially after working with thick, highly oiled applications to speed up his work.

---

Overhearing the story, Fhiess begins to become irritable. He thinks of that vulture in Remdormo which caused him grief. Frustrated, he mutters angrily among the group, "I'd let the owl get eaten.." He perks up and suddenly forgets his pent up rage when a waitress brings dinner. He bows slightly in his seat and says politely, "Ah, thank you!"

Calmer now, he says, "Maybe we'll have more interesting stories to tell, not that I'm going to be a singing Bard. This inn is already quite a story in travel, the painting above us like a window into a world where other patrons are as happy as we are, and made during a golden age of artistic history."

 

[Nezumi]

After having count their days earnings Sagishi was able to hand Fhiess about 7 gold pieces worth of silver, keeping the rest for himself acknowledging that the elf did the major part of the work. Besides, even after his expenses he still has more money than he ever had before so he is still in a generous mood and offers to buy the first round.
Kicking back his feet he smilingly listens to the sounds around him. Realizing that it has been quite some time since he felt so relaxed and happy.
He pays little attention to the story, the man tells at the other table. Typically overblown tavern talk.

As Fhiess talks Sagishi smiles. "You have practiced your instrument then? We'll finally here you play?"

 

[Mike M]

Fhiess:

Spoiler

As you comment on the painting, you feel something move slightly in your pack.

 

[KittenMaster]

Fhiess' body suddenly jolts shortly after Sagishi suggests playing a song. At first it seems like the typical embarrassment that comes with being unable to play, but suddenly he takes off his pack and drops it on the floor, backing away from it.

 

[Nezumi]

When Fhiess suddenly jolts Sagishi fears that he has taken the teasing a step too far this time. "Look, you don't have to, I just think that..." he then sees that the elf's reaction has nothing to do with him. "What is it?" he asks.

 

[KittenMaster]

Fhiess watches the bag a moment with uncertainly, "Not that... It felt like something moved in my bag."

 

[Nezumi]

Sagishi leans forward, curiously. "Really? Probably just a rat or something. This is a big city and sometimes the little beasts can get a bit overconfident." He winks and barks a short laugh. "Or, you know, maybe it is that ominous snake monster."

 

[Axelhortsemchi]

Ludwig takes the rapid buying up of precious metals as a mixed bag. On the one hand, he could have gotten a much better deal if he arrived earlier, so that sucks. But on the other, this means that numerous people are discovering the superiority of precious metals to fiat currency, and private businesses are turning a huge profit from the rush. Ludwig continues on reasonably content, blissfully unaware of the serpentine horrors soon to befall the capital.
--------
Reunited with the party, Ludwig is able to relax with the layout of the bar not requiring him to stick most of his neck through the window. He looks a little exasperated as the people at the table next to him laugh at a story about yet more snakes. Looking to his fellow delegates, he says "Shit, it seems like everyone is going on about snakes tonight." His thoughts are interrupted as Fheiss's bag is thrown down. Glaring at the bag, the J'raffa thinks I swear, if there's a goddamn snake in there...

 

[KittenMaster]

Fhiess takes his rapier, still seated safely in its scabbard, then uses it like a stick to lift the flap of his bag carefully. Acknowledging Ludwig's literal point of view from a safer distance, he asks the J'Raffa, "Ludwig? Can you see if anything is moving?"

 

[Axelhortsemchi]

Ludwig peers into the opened bag from where he is, looking for movement. Hopefully, whatever's in there doesn't try to make a long jump towards his face.

[url=http://roll.coyotecode.net/lookup.php?rollid=132164]Perception: 1D20 + 3 = [17]+3 = 20
[/url]

 

[ThLunarian]

Keranos revels in the interest of the street urchins, answering each of their questions with a pleasant but firm conviction.

"Do we gotta pay? 'Cause we ain't got no money," the dirtier of the pair asks, looking down as though ashamed.

"Gold is unnecessary," Keranos answers, smiling. "Keranos accepts the faith of any and all who hear his call. All that is required is to stand up to the call of freedom, and oppose tyranny. Speak of him in word, song, and deed, and He will reward you with protection and love. The very storm clouds themselves shall be your allies."

He glances down at his satchel, which contains the replicas of his Holy Symbol. He'd originally intended these for a different purpose, but now that the opportunity has presented itself...

Keranos removes two of the necklaces and holds them out to the children. "Here," he says. "Take these as symbols of your new faith. Do good deeds, and stand up for freedom. When others ask you why, tell them that you've heard the Call of Keranos, and show them this." He holds it up to their eye level (which is not much lower than his own) and says in a hushed tone, "This is the Moon of Keranos, one of the twelve which orbits our world. It is the rightful home of the Storm God, where he is meant to watch over his people and guide them on their quest for a better life."

When the youths accept his gift, he smiles. "I must be on my way, children, but before I leave, may I hear your names, so that I can call on you if I require allies in my quest to spread Keranos's word?"

"Pip," says the cleaner one.
"Tom," intones the shy one - though now he seems somewhat less ashamed of his station.

"Pip and Tom," he says, patting a firm hand on one each of their shoulders, "It has been quite a pleasure to meet you. I have full confidence that we shall cross paths again."

He takes one last, lingering glance at them to memorize their faces, nods once, and spins away toward the tavern.

He enters later than everyone else, to find Fhiess frightened and Ludwig's head of considerable girth cautiously approaching a bag on the floor. His traveling companions seem to be making a scene, for all eyes are on them.

 

[Mike M]

The half-orc stops in the middle of a tale about how he single-handedly drove a colossal iron golem off the edge of a fortress parapet to its destruction when Fhiess unexpectedly grows frightened of his own pack. His hand wanders to the handle of his battle axe propped up against the table as he stands to his feet and peers over. "Maybe snake god has returned," he mutters. "You don't have any relics, do you? Maybe lose teeth made of bone? Much talk of giant snakes this night."

Ludwig:

Spoiler

There's nothing amiss in Fhiess's pack that you can see, but you also can't see past the first layer of items.