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#61
07-30-2011, 11:51 AM
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Neroth looks up with a resigned look of desperation. "diplomacy Dice Roll:
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#62
08-01-2011, 10:58 PM
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The man, presumably Laris, doesn't soften much but he leans over the counter and inspects each of the items without touching them, frowning as he appraises them.
"This is a finely crafted hammer, bearing a minor enchantment..." He does not comment on the other items, but steps back and rubs a finger across his chin pensively, appraising you for several moments as he did the items you placed before him. "You may keep your items. If you perform a task for me, I will grant you what you require." he says suddenly and decisively as if he were teetering on the edge of the decision. "I have an item to be delivered to a man that resides here within Hillsfar. I would hire a common courier but he is sometimes difficult to find... He quirks an eyebrow, waiting for your response. The corner of his mouth rises as if he anticipates your acceptance of the deal... as if he knows you have few options. Last edited by mad_gondsman; 08-02-2011 at 12:19 PM. Reason: Clarification.
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#63
08-14-2011, 11:26 AM
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"Tell me more about this person." Neroth considers the situation for a moment, then continues, "I am interested in performing this duty for you, but I fear my friend may need attention immediately. Would you Diplomacy
Dice Roll:
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#64
08-15-2011, 10:49 PM
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Larsis shakes his head, picking up the goblin sorcerer's headdress to examine it through half-lidded eyes. As if satisfied, he says "I'll keep this as it has a connection to you." It is very difficult to read the shrewd man but you think that this might almost be a warning should you not return.
He bends over to place the head-dress underneath the counter top before straightening and pulling a handkerchief from his coat pocket to wipe his hands on. "Go and tend to your friend. Come back tomorrow and we will talk." You get a feeling that he says everything in that disapproving, unimpressed manner. After you gather your things, he nods wordlessly in farewell. You rush back through the streets, pushing through the crowd to make it to the Diamond as quickly as possible, ignoring the protests and shouts of the more clamorous Hillsfarian street-goers. You take a moment to compose yourself before heading into the taproom so as not to draw too much attention... Moments later you are at Cid's bedside, tilting the phial to his thin alien lips. He coughs and sputters for a moment, making you wonder if he took it into his lungs... but that subsides and eventually he manages to swallow it down. Once it is done, you wait. The hours slide by as you watch over the strange fellow, taking some comfort that his fever abated almost immediately after you administered the potion. You loose track of time as you sit there in the small, stuffy room, watching over him... It is late evening and you are fighting sleep when he speaks, jarring you awake. "Well... I suppose I am in your debt." he says with a sigh and a groan as he attempts to sit up in his narrow bed. Gone is the gray skinned being with the oblong skull and ghost-white hair. Reappeared is the slender man that you were introduced to as "Cid". You cannot tell if the color that is in his cheeks is part of a disguise, but it seems that he has recovered completely... if not still in a little pain from the wound in his leg.
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#65
08-16-2011, 07:11 PM
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"Cid, my friend, I'm happy to see you feeling better." Neroth sits up with an obvious sigh of relief, but no little amount of trepidation creeping in. He gestures to the lockbox on the table. "I've recovered your lockbox, but at what price? Does anyone else in Hillsfar know of your... condition?" he asks sheepishly. "When you were at death's door, you showed yourself to be somewhat... other."
Neroth watches Cid's reaction carefully, gauging whether Cid was threatened by the revelation. "Obviously, you know that I'm no fan of the Law of Humanity," he whispered, barely audibly, "but seriously! We could both be in a lot of trouble! Please tell me that box is worth the risk to us both!"
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#66
08-16-2011, 11:13 PM
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Cid smiles sheepishly as he pushes himself up to sit against the headboard of his narrow bunk. "At what price? he asks in mock surprise. "I thought we agreed on 500 gold..." he says with a chuckle, making light of the situation.
"I assure you it was well worth it." he quickly says in seriousness, waving a hand to calm you down. "And no, I haven't exactly been in a sharing mood. I regret burdening you with my condition, but I am indebted to you for your discretion. You didn't have to do what you did." he says, nodding to the empty phial on the stand by the bunk. "I certainly wouldn't have stuck out my neck for a complete stranger. You are a better man than I." He seems amused at the irony in the statement. "All kidding aside, you are right. Trouble always seems to follow me as closely as my shadow. Perhaps it is best if I square up with you and assume another identity. The less you know about me, the better off you are. What do I owe you for the potion? I'll double it for your troubles."
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#67
08-19-2011, 09:14 AM
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Neroth smiles at the strange man and remembers his debt to the potion's purveyor. "Don't worry about the potion. I've indebted myself to a shopkeep with a promise to deliver a package for him. It could be a good opportunity." Neroth relaxes a bit, "Besides, you've obviously got an interesting story to tell. I'm no friend of the Red Plumes and can use all the like-minded friends I can get. Perhaps we'll be of use to each other in the future."
"We can settle up for the original agreement, but I have to admit I am quite curious. Can you tell me anything about your package or even what you are? I've never seen such a transformation before, even among the elves."
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#68
08-19-2011, 10:50 AM
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All of this open talk about the Plumes and non-humans begins making Cid antsy, as he looks to the door as if something sinister were lurking about on the other side.
"I won't tell you anything of the box." he says, raising a finger as if that is the end of that. "But... I suppose your scholarly folk call my kind Changelings. We are kin to Dopplegangers, I suppose. It's rather difficult to spot us in a crowd and enumerate us as we never wear our own faces..." he shifts back to the gray skinned, pupil-less, nearly featureless face that you assume is his own. A blank canvas comes to mind. "...but I've always been told that we're rare. I've only met one other." Within the blink of an eye, the middle-aged, pale-haired man that you were introduced to as Cid is before you once more. You note that unlike Marecin, the shapeshifting elven druid, Cid's clothes are not affected by the transformation. "So you indebted yourself to Larsis? There aren't too many other shopkeeps that deal in these potions." he says, explaining himself. "I suppose the least I can do is help you with your task." He begins working on removing the old bandage from his leg, grimacing as he moves. "Say, would you mind seeing if that terrible bard is still out there?"
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#69
08-19-2011, 11:47 AM
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Neroth thanks Cid for his payment and wishes him well, declining the offer to stay at the Diamond. He suggests that if he and Cid need to communicate, they do so by means of the message board as before, but using a code such as "Candlemaker requires Nurse for short term work, inquire at X." or some such thing where the initials for Cid and Neroth start the professions listed.
He returns to the Ranger's Roost and quickly goes off to sleep, pondering the strange day thus far. The next morning, he checks and maintains his gear, has a simple breakfast, then goes back to see Larsis. "Here as promised. What can I do for you?"
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#70
08-22-2011, 11:07 AM
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After but a few moments hanging about outside of Larsis' shop door, drawing the suspicious stares of a few of the ever-present Red Plumes, the door opens of its own accord allowing you to enter. The smell of leather and the sharp scent of ozone fills the shop. Also new are the two large barrels of fine sand on either side of the door. It stands to reason that, much like everything else in the shop, that it is more than it appears.
"Good morning, Sir Ranger. I trust your friend is now on the road to recovery?" he says, making small-talk, though perhaps more out of curiosity of the performance of his goods rather than any real concern for you friends. His half-lidded eyes at once seem piercing and uninterested. "Right, right. A man that does not waste time. I like that." he says, walking through his shop as if he were a Lord of the city. "I need you to track down a scholar named Xarcious. He is a man of many vices and has a fondness for the arena in spite of owing the House a substantial debt. You might look for a gentleman named Greeves. I understand Xarcious owes him a substantial amount of money, so perhaps Greeves is likely to know where to find him as a result." He draws an average-looking leather scroll tube from a well-organized shelf of like items, stepping between the many shelves and racks of curios as he makes his way back to you. "Deliver this to him." he says flatly. "Wait until he has read it. Then tell him to write down directions to find the Sewer Dragons. Everything required is within that tube. Return that to me and our agreement will be complete." Last edited by mad_gondsman; 08-22-2011 at 11:25 AM.
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#71
08-22-2011, 11:49 AM
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"Get the info from Xarcious and get out." Neroth shifts nervously for a moment, eying the variety of wares in the shop. Since he has yet to cash in his promissory note, he decides not to purchase anything at the moment.
Nodding to Larsis, he exits the shop and makes his way toward the arena, intent on finding Greeves and then Xarcious as quickly as possible. While walking the streets, he does his best to stay out of the way, blending in with the crowds and trying not to draw any attention to himself. Last edited by myorke; 08-23-2011 at 09:19 AM. Reason: Didn't see the edited version of your post before responding!
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#72
08-23-2011, 09:38 AM
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#73
08-23-2011, 10:47 AM
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You make your way through the city streets, watching as the buildings change from worse to not as bad as you near the Vault of Swords, a massive temple dedicated to Tempus. Walking down the crowded avenues towards the arena, the city begins getting to you. The shoving, the rudeness, the stench from the sewers, and the constant clamor amount to sensory overload.
You press on, regardless, and find it hard to suppress a sigh. How many taverns have you passed since you left Larsis' shop? Sixteen? Twenty? And you haven't even made it to the arena! Figuring that you have to start somewhere, you begin asking questions in the next tavern you find. Waiting patiently, you chat up some of the regulars at the bar and find out that Greeley, or Creeley Greeves, is a secretive moneylender and bookie who has an "office" in the Arena district but the fellow you ask only knows him by name. Although you found early success, ten more hours of roaming and questioning pass without any further success. You are standing before the arena on the opposite side of the city from your room. You've gotten the names of no less than thirty bookies after so much questioning, but no Greeves. The sun is on the wane, your head is pounding, you feel sick from the smell of the city, and you're tired of talking...
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#74
08-28-2011, 11:33 AM
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Neroth decides to return to the Ranger's Roost and spend some time relaxing in the common room with a touch of ale. He suspects that his inquiries might draw some attention, so he let's himself be found for a few hours. Before retiring for the night, he tells the innkeep that he is looking for a specific bookie, not just any gambler and not for the intention of gambling. He asks that he be informed of any inquiries and slides the man a few coin for the trouble.
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#75
08-29-2011, 03:03 PM
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The sun sets, you sleep, you rise... and another day passes in the crowded streets and taverns of Hillsfar in a fruitless search. Just as often as not, you are met with a suspicious glance and a nod of the head before they turn their backs on you. Frustration is setting in as your sunlight begins to disappear once more and the ale that you purchased for appearances begins to reek. With two days wasted and nothing to show for it but skunky ale and the smell of pipeweed thick in your cloak, you begin reevaluating your strategy... when someone plants their hand firmly between your shoulders with enough force to jostle you upon your chair!
"Clefton, I'll have a double of the top-shelf usual... and the same for my friend, here!" Cid calls above the din as he leans upon the bar and nods his hello. "To Greeves." he says with a good-natured chuckle as he tosses a short glass of amber liquid back. Disguise taken into consideration, Cid looks a world better than in the days you've seen him before. A healthy color spreads to his cheeks and his eyes water a little at the potent liquor he tosses back. He no longer leans heavily upon a crutch and from what you can tell, he suffers no ill effects from his once-lamed leg. His long wool coat and plain linen clothes, while unremarkable, are clean and pressed flat and cap atop his head is pushed back. The only weapon he carries is a knife tucked into a thick red scarf about his waist. His eyes sparkle as if he knows a private joke as he asks you, "So... can you tell me what you want with a crooked bookie?"
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