[Story] Prologue: Funeral Procession

[corporealself]

Woot!

[corporealself]

“I’m sorry, I truly am,” said the man before you over his steeped fingers, “but you’ll have to trust me when I say that it’s urgent.”

Although those where his words, the feeling in the room couldn’t have much more the opposite. The man was Tomas Aldrin and the place was the councilman’s private study. He was older than some of you, well into his fifties, but time had hardly touched him yet. In truth he looked twenty years younger with some lines touching the corners of his mouth and a dappling of white hairs amongst the black ones of his temples.

Behind him and across the river the City of Twilight is on fire, but not really though. With the dying of the light the pyrahje are set aflame and cast Westcrown in a golden orange glow. The clouds above, the clouds that still cling to the passing winder, only reflect back red. A hellish landscape indeed if it weren’t so familiar.

In contrast to the view behind Tomas, behind the three of you are just the three night watchmen that brought you here with subpoenas in hand. Each did exactly as instructed, serving you the papers and bringing you to the estate. However, they were not as rough as they might have been. A sure sign that you weren’t scheduled for some back alley execution. But there was still the question of…

“No doubt you must be wondering why I’ve had you brought here, and I assure you that it was no easy task convincing Pardesh to part with some of his men…” Tomas leaned back, eying each one of you in turn and seemingly satisfied by what he found, “In all honesty I, as a representative of the council, need your help.”

“With the burning of Crimson tomorrow morning it has come to my attention that there might be those among my town that wish to cause havoc at the funeral. I have no proof, but my source has convinced me that these people might or might not have a vested interest in undermining the authority of the council. Whoever these subversives are, if they are even real, I have no wish to draw the crown’s attention and ire to Saltmarsh in order to deal with a rioting populace.”

“You all are… singularities if you will. Capable people with a shared history and seemingly little interest in causing anarchy. I want to employ each of you as additional guards to watch over the proceedings. If there is trouble I would empower you to take whatever action you deem necessary to maintain order in Saltmarsh. I love this town, and it is high time she received some peace of mind. So will you accept my offer?”

[Huhart]

Anikara gives Aldin a skeptical look. "While I can vouch that these others are able fighting men, I don't know what you want me for. I am just a dealer in, uh, herbal medicine. She strokes her rat, Ned, gently. He'd been rudely awakened by the bumbling guardsman and was now trying to crawl up onto her shoulder. She pats Ned on the head and gives him a kiss, causing Tomas to wince in disgust.

"What little talent I have in the arcane arts is hardly useful for crowd control. More likely the opposite, with the way people feel about magic users these days. I'll be dragged in the fire after Crimson as an encore."

Ani turns to leave, only to be confronted by the three guards. One looks vaguely familiar. Ah yes, the drunken dancing fool. She giggles and winks at him. He gives her a confused look in return. She turns back to the councilman.

"I suppose I can stand around and look menacing. How much did you say you were paying us?" She asks. Ned turns his head to face the councilman, as if he too were interested in his response.

[corporealself]

"A sum of fifty gold will be given to each of you once the funeral is complete. More than fair if my information turns out to be false, otherwise... Well you would earn your gold, wouldn't you?"

"However, as far as any additional burning goes, I 'did' say that I'd empower you to do what is nessescary. Essentially for that length of time you would enjoy the same authority as any other dottari. Now who in their right mind would burn a legal representative of Cheliax in front of a crowd of witnesses?"

Aldrin smiles, surely at the absurd thought, before returning his attention to his other two guests, "So what do you two have to say?"

[Huhart]

"50 gold and a chance to act like a dottari. What do think Ned?" Anikara asks her rat.

[corporealself]

[orangehatter]

Shows how much she knows of me, I'd say. I am certainly a lover. Not a fighter.

E'loi's features remained apathetic despite his "accomplices" inaccurate comment. For now, though, he would make no correction. The hint that he paid attention to what took place was only seen between the occasional raise of his brows and squinting of his eyes. His dexterous fingers were laid out neatly in his lap, giving him the refined mannerisms of a man much older than he'd ought to be. 50 gold to risk my neck. Does not sound leasing in the least. He chewed on the thought for hardly a breath before the ghost of a grin crept to his lips.

Who said I had to risk my neck?

Besides, there were many benefits one could make of imitating a dottari. All of which are abusive in their nature. Yet E'loi had to remind himself that this opportunity wasn't for him to be more devious, but to use his skills to get ahead. Living off the day-to-day hope that a burglary, pickpocketing, or blackmailing would go as well as the day before wasn't going to get him too far until he found something more steady.

"I bite," E'loi offered, his words smooth yet his tone an almost parched sound. "But questions do come to mind. Such, what exactly would you have us do with these...miscreants...should they make themselves known?"

[Pilgrim]

Ardanis had remained silent throughout this exchange, but his mind was active. Not my usual work. And despite what Anikara says, I'm no more a fighter than either of these two. Still, 50 gold, that's a fair amount for a bit of backup, and it might be that the extra show of force reduces the actual amount of fighting.

He frowned, weighing the pros and cons. Well, I have been wanting to get in with the dottari. Maybe get some casework out of the government - well paying without being some nobleman's ploy. And I could always use more contacts in law enforcement. Think of it as an investment in future work, Ardanis.

He finally speaks up, offering his own answer to E'loi's question. "I would think the best option would be to subdue and arrest them. As appointed members of the dottari, we could kill them, but that would preferably be a last resort - the dead give little information."

[corporealself]

"Well spoken Ardanis," Tomas rises, stretching his back slightly, and turns to gaze out the window, "But that is the ideal situation. A life or death struggle can easily turn out different."

"Should it come to that," Tomas chuckled, still laughing at his own joke.



"Now I should tell you that you won't be alone in this endeavor. I've contacted a local boy by the name of Eben Winsome to assist you. He works at a nearby tavern. I'm sure if you ask around that you can find him. I should also stress that this operation is strictly confidential. If you make the details of my plan known, I will consider it treason and have the law deal with you accordingly."

At the mention of the word treason, the room seems to grow noticeably colder. It was known, widely, that criminals in Cheliax received punishments that usually were wildly exaggerated responses to the crimes. The Instruments of Judgment were all terrible, especially the Tines and all were made to ensure criminals were damned to hell upon death. Treason brought the wrath of Cheliax upon those unfortunate few. It was not a light threat and the dark look in Aldrin's formerly amicable eyes told each of you that he'd see the process through.

"So, do we have a deal then?"

[Pilgrim]

"Yes," says Ardanis, nodding. "We have a deal." Though I dislike being threatened. Especially when it isn't needed.

[Huhart]

"Yea, I'm in too," Anikara says. As if we have a choice.

Her eyes narrow and she scowls at Aldrin as the mind reading spell hits her. She looks the councilman over carefully, making no attempt to disguise her action. He must have a ring or some valuable object able to hold a dweomer.

"Careful," thinks Ned, "he is a powerful man."

She says no more, but her actions make it clear that she knows Aldrin used magic on her.

[orangehatter]

"If you make the details of my plan known, I will consider it treason and have the law deal with you accordingly."

Tsk tsk tsk. What bad manners. No need for that. E'loi grimaced at the man's sudden change of demeanor. Yet he did like the idea that they had some more help than just the three of them. Especially in the knowledge that there would be more bodies between him and danger.

"Yes. We have a deal."

[corporealself]

“Then it is settled,” Tomas’ demeanor seems to upturn sharply as he hands out the writs of employment for each of you to sign.

The contracts, for those that care to read them., set the term of employment from the first light of tomorrow morning up until the body is burned a few hours later. In total it would seem to be roughly five hours work.

The contract also lays out your privileges and duties. You are ordered to simply follow the crowd, preferably from a vantage point within it or nearby. You’re mostly to keep an eye out for any suspicious or overtly hostile behavior and subdue any miscreants that break the order of Cheliax. To that end you are allowed to use dottari equipment or facilities as the need arises as well as being empowered to take any individuals you choose to detain into custody.

Once you finish signing, Tomas takes back the writs and gives each of you a copy of the contract in return, already stamped with his seal of office. The business at hand concluded, he gestures to the guards who usher you out without another word.

[Pilgrim]

Ardanis carefully reads the contract over - always a wise thing to do in Cheliax. After assuring himself that he is signing up to do exactly what he said he'd do, he folds his copy, pocketing it, and says, "I guess I will see you in the morning, then. First light."

[GLM]

The Four Winds is a simple 3-story place, with a sign in the shape of storm cloud hanging above the blue door. The cloud has a human face, its cheeks puffed up as trails of blowing wind leave its mouth. Business is brisk, and the place is buzzing with anticipation of the upcoming procession. All eight tables are full, and there are a few people along the bar and along the shelf that runs down the left side wall, next to the fireplace. A few people have congregated under the staircase on the right side, apparently trying to drink in private. A sign at the base of the stairs says "Rooms available. Inquire at the bar" The patrons are mostly men, and are clearly local. One half of the room seems to be salt miners, the rest work at the slaughterhouses. The smell changes from one side of the large room to the other, as does the clothing.

A large, gruff looking red-headed human in his forties mans the bar, barking out drink orders and directing his staff, which consists of a woman (presumably his wife) and a young man, who is clearly related to the woman, anyway. Thin, blond, and not gruff at all, he quickly fetches drinks, politely chats with the patrons, and is all smiles as he dashes around the room, serving and cleaning as he goes. The patrons seem to like him, and speak to him as he goes about his work. "Eb!" The man behind the bar shouts, pointing at 3 large mugs of ale. "You'll have to excuse me Rodrick, it seems that I'm needed elsewhere. You can tell me about your latest underground find later..." he says as he dashes off to pick up the ales.