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  #121  
Old 05-30-2019, 01:54 PM
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Ash raises an eyebrow as Drea or whoever has an... episode... before fleeing the room. She shurgs at the chief. "Well, I guess it IS time to go... Although I wanted to ask if you happen to have any extra pairs of those anti-magic cuffs lying around that we could requisition?" If the entire gang turned up at this house, they would have ample use for them.

--------------------------------------------------

Tuson wasn't Ash's favorite co-worker, but he was competent and she figured she could work with him, so long as she managed to ignore his humor. As they proceed to the site, she clarifies her position. "Well, if you really want, we could wait for hours and hope to arrest her as she leaves. But I think we can do better than arresting a single suspect here. So have no fear, Elijah; you needn't miss your dinner over this wench." Ash didn't intend to miss the visiting hours at the temple district either. "How about this: We surround the dwelling, cover all the exits, and then we determine if she's inside, and who she has with her. Once we confirm she's there, we carry out the arrest - breaking down the door if necessary - and take her and her friends who offer resistance. Nobody mentions anything about us being there for just one individual until we're certain the others do not intend to implicate themselves or fight us." If the cult was using this adventuring party, then it wouldn't be enough to just remove one tool when they could remove the entire toolbox. If they played their cards right, they wouldn't have to manufacture evidence against the adventurers - they'd do it themselves. Just burst in and demand they freeze and drop their weapons. If they were innocent they would comply, but a guilty individual would assume they were under arrest and resist. The key was to not mention immediately that the detectives only have sufficient evidence to arrest the drowess.

Ash has an idea as to how they would confirm miss Vel'ond's presence. As they travel into the slums, she keeps a lookout for any Something like this
or this
walking urchin vendors, who might be willing to sell their including whatever plate or box they use to display their waresstuff to her.

 

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  #122  
Old 06-03-2019, 10:49 PM
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Valdur
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At first the Dwarf was a bit confused when someone from within the cafe brought out a large tray of still-steaming coffee into the dreary morning he occupied with the many Clasp members. Seeing everyone else take the offered mug and seem appreciative of it he accepted his, fine with having it steaming and black. Reluctantly he walked inside, still keeping near the door after everyone else stepped inside. His grasp fell from his weapon as he leaned against a wall, sipping at his mug of coffee. "Mm, roasted until charcoal. Seems like someone knows how t'brew a decent cup of coffee in this city." He commented under his breath,
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keeping eyes on the interior of the establishment, very much still on edge with this many Clasp members in this cramped of a space.


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  #123  
Old 06-04-2019, 05:41 AM
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With the ice broken, Lady Sorrel continues to play quietly, the pleasant sounds of her panflute filling the cafe. She doesn't pause when the kenku barista places a steaming cup before her, but she does smile at him with her eyes and nod in appreciation. Over the sound of her music she listens closely to the voice of the tabaxi. A high-ranking Clasp member could be a very useful person to have at your side when the need arises.

She arches an eyebrow as the talks turn to matters of revenge. The Seamstress wasn't one to ever begrudge someone their passions, but a bloodthirsty campaign of racial violence against Emon was not something they wanted to encourage. Her notes turn sad and slower, hopefully giving one of her companions Help Action for anyone trying to dissuade Drow-related violencethe perfect backdrop to suggest a more sane approach for the Clasp.


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  #124  
Old 06-05-2019, 11:12 AM
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Kytaran Finuthin
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Kytaran leans back, giving the outward appearance of thinking about the tabaxi’s words. In reality his sharp mind doesn’t need any time to reach a conclusion, but in his experience his words are usually better received if he maintains the illusion of thinking hard about them before speaking. ”As admirable as your enthusiasm is, I think it is somewhat misdirected at this moment,” he begins, speaking slowly and deliberately.

”I think my reputation may precede me, you probably know I have no love for the dark ones, so it wouldn’t bother me one bit if you went on your little rampage targeting them,” he says, smiling coldly. ”The problem with that is that it wouldn’t do us any good in the current situation. It would be like tossing a fireball to kill a snail. Ineffective, over the top and likely to cause more collateral damage than you’d like. The slimy snail might even survive inside his filthy little shell,” he continues.

”Even if your little purge would manage to target a guilty dark elf among those innocent, of this particular crime at least, consider the risk to your operatives. The assassin we slew last night tried to use the magic inscribed on his very bones to set off an explosion. We killed him before he could finish the ritual, but he still exploded with enough force to kill anyone around him. Now imagine some of your people confronting an assassin like that in an enclosed space and that they aren’t quick enough. The damage to your people would be fatal and I could imagine several blocks of houses destroyed or on fire,” he says heavily. ”I don’t see how that would help our cause.

He lets his words sink in before continuing, leaning forward again to emphasize his words. ”Let me suggest an alternative course of action. A cooperation between us, the special investigators, and the Clasp. You have a network of people far better placed than the stupid city watch to gather information. Someone knows something. Someone saw something. Those bastards who planned the attack staged their little operation somewhere and someone will know where. You use your network to dig out that someone. And you let us know. No violence. Not yet. In return, we will share with you what we find and include you and yours in any retaliatory strike against them. We want them as much as you do. If we work together, they don’t stand a chance,” he says, a vicious look on his face that leaves no one in any doubt about what he wants to do to those responsible for the attack.

The elf leans back again, peering at the tabaxi. ”So. What do you say? Can we work together?”

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  #125  
Old 06-06-2019, 01:12 AM
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At the house to be watched, Drea follows Ash out of the cab, walking silently in her shadow. She keeps her eyes toward the ground, careful not to look directly at Detective Tuson, for fear of him and what he might see in her.

After moments of silence, waiting and watching, Drea places her hand to her chest, fearing that the beating of her heart will announce her presence to the world.

 

 

 
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  #126  
Old 06-06-2019, 09:10 PM
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Chapter 2 – Unkind Kindling 14th of Quen’pillar - Noon
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Keith sipped silently from his tea for a moment as the detectives spoke, slowly massaging his left brow to the rhythm of the flute's song before looking at each in turn and addressing Kytaran directly. "Oh, I know about your disposition all too well. I know for a fact that you wouldn't even think twice about sacrificing the tiefling and the dwarf if it meant catching your prey and keeping your precious elves safe. But I can agree on the value of your alternative course of action... for now." He then raised his tall glass and with a pleased smile downed it in one go, sighing loudly before turning to Elrohir. "I don't think that's a bad idea. I'll be sure to keep my remaining mages under wraps till this whole mess is over. Dunno' if the other bosses plan to do so too, but mine usually runs them undercover anyways. Hell, half the wizards left in town are already paying us thrice our usual fee for protection, while the rest seem sure enough of their power you'd think the bastards hadn't ever feared death!"

It looked like he wished to say more, but in that instant the bell on the café's door ringed announcing the entrance of a strange couple, and the start of a scene none of the detectives could have expected. A tall and jaw-droppingly gorgeous woman who carried herself like nobility but had the eyes of an experienced killer stood in the door frame, wearing a beautiful black dress which revealed several battle-scars above her neckline and a luxurious white mink coat that only accentuated her powerful build. Her blonde head turned back to the street as she whispered something before entering, followed by a small and elderly looking gnome, who by the look of his long green robes and almost as long white beard, the inquisitive and intelligent eyes which glinted almost as much as the golden chain that rested over his chest, and the gnarled wooden staff he carried with him, could only be an ancient and powerful wizard.

And as soon as the two of them had entered, even before the kenku could have said anything about the cafe being reserved for a private event, Keith had already knocked twice on the table and bolted for the back-exit without even saying a word, followed in a veritable stampede by a troupe of his men, including some which seemingly had been in hiding underneath the booths all along. After the clasp's impromptu exit, it was the gnome who spoke first, while the woman seated herself on the table opposite to Sorrel's booth, looking at her with an intense gaze as the bardess continued playing her song. "Well, after having her men tail us for so long, it is refreshing to catch them off-guard for a change. And would you look at that? The song you insisted on following brought you to a tiefling girl all the same. Now then, sorry for interrupting whatever business you were discussing, but I am afraid that's the risk of dealing with thieves on broad daylight. Now waiter, would you mind serving us some tea over here? I liked the look of whatever that cat was having."

And so, the SSTF members were left sitting at the "Mother Goose's Inn" Café with two complete strangers, a 2 gold and 6 silver tab on behalf of Keith, and some sort of arrangement with the city's thieves' guild for the immediate future. Among the many thoughts that raced through their heads in that moment, only one echoed between them all: the golden chain which that gnome wore was identical to the one that had saved Headmaster Thurmond's life from the explosion at the Lyceum.


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The dilapidated and overpopulated sight of the upper slums greets your eyes as the last lights of the day are swallowed by grey clouds. While the lower ones may be more secluded and by far more violent, at least the people there seem to thrive as a community. That is not the case here. The tenements and communal homes pile on top of one another, as hundreds of beggars walk the streets with bare feet, arms stretched out asking for coin. Not a single refugee had been denied sanctuary in Emon, and not one was left to starve either, but that was about the extent of what the council had been able to provide for the ever-increasing mass of people that fled their homes and countries for the last decade or so, most of them still bearing the scars from the dragons' devastation.

Along the way, most of you are scared half to death as one of the kittens that Drea is hugging suddenly speaks with the voice of a grown man, saying out loud "...such a good girl, she'll take care of you. She's come a long way and the more we help her reconnect with the world, the quicker she'll heal. I do wonder if she'll want to join my experiments once she has fully recovered, after all, we could always use more capable arcanists when transmu..." before returning to lick the black fur of its paws with an innocent purr.

The muddy tracks lead you to the western side, far away from the city walls and almost reaching the farming communities that peppered the land across the shoreline of the Ozmit Sea. There the driver asks for your forgiveness and explains that his boss would not allow him to drive further away, but adds that he'll be waiting for you to return, and that you are about ten minutes away from the address given to him. As the group moves trying to keep as low a profile as possible, Ash finds a small child selling produce from the Catyurit family farm, and buys all her stock, basket and all, for a measly 2 silver, which the girl grabs with trembling hands before running away laughing with joy.

Eventually, the group reaches an old and decrepit building with a small line of elderly and sick people at its door. It doesn't take long for the detectives to find out it is the St. Tiberius Clinic, ran by Dr. Lumina'ra, a survivor from the fall of Draconia. As you stake out the place and the line grows shorter, you eventually see the doctor come out on her break. She seems to be a golden dragonborn in her late forties, missing her left arm and her tail, and clearly a chain-smoker. You watch as she stares sternly at the graffitied walls of the crumbling building next to her clinic, before tossing the butt of her cigarette into the mud and heading back in, asking for the next patient to follow with a raspy voice.

 

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  #127  
Old 06-06-2019, 11:30 PM
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Valdur
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He peered over the rim of his cup at the pair of young Halflings that had taken up a spot under Keith's chair. He was a bit surprised these two could hide so easily in full light just by hanging out under a seat. His brow furrowed when they got spooked by something and took off, leaving their crossbows behind. At the very least his allies weren't being threatened by a more immediate set of archers. He followed where the pair had been rendered gaunt, seeing an old bearded Gnome going bald up top having entered with a proper bombshell of a woman. He could barely make out the scars near her neck under the fur she had around her shoulders, along with seeing the more practiced form in that black dress.

Out of reflex Valdur reached for his hammer as many bodies just flew out the back of the shop, causing a proper ruckus as they seemingly fled from this singer and old Gnome. It wasn't until he walked past did the Dwarf get a sense on why they ran from this wizened half-folk; He was a spellcaster. And even his relatively dull senses could feel the tiny shifts in the air around him as he walked. The kind that made the hairs in his beard pull a little straighter. Still, the place was now vacated at least, leading to the armored Dwarf relaxing some and taking a seat at the table with the group, asking the obvious questions. "So, who might you two be? I get the feelin' you've got some scary power t'show for the years you're sporting." He nods at the Gnome. "What with how The Clasp bolted like they got caught stealin' from clotheslines. Or were they scared of the knight in the dress?" He nods to the woman in black.


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  #128  
Old 06-07-2019, 06:27 AM
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Lady Sorrel's eyes widen as the woman walked in through the door. Lina Harshwinter! Here?! Harshwinter looks her directly in the eyes and the Seamstress curses her lack of self-control. It would not due to appear desperate in front of one of the mightiest socialites in all of Emon. The network of parties, galas and galleries that made up the artistic organ was a complex beast. Lady Sorrel had some power, true, but if the high society of Emon were a chessboard she was a Bishop, while Harshwinter was the White Queen.

Gaining her approval would be a delightful boon for Lady Sorrel's just now budding House. It's only natural that she feel nervous before her with no preparation. Her fingers do not slip while she plays, she is a professional...but there is the fear of them slipping. She calms herself, says a prayer to beauty and
Dice Performance:
1d20+10 (17)+10 Total = 27
continues her song. As she plays, a small shower of illusory cherry blossoms begin to descend in slow motion around her.


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  #129  
Old 06-07-2019, 07:21 AM
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Elrohir - Owner of GDI
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Elrohir could remember many many years ago coming home one evening, a day early from a weekend away with his late wife, to find that their children had thrown a party. That was the only time Elrohir could remember a building being cleared out with such speed and unpracticed precision. Though it was the Clasp maybe it was practiced.

Elrohir stood up to leave. No point the members of the SSTF being here longer than necessary. Then Elorhir spotted the golden necklace. "Bar tender, put it on Keith's tab. It looks like we are staying for a little bit longer." The old elf picked up his cane and walked in magical silence towards to new pair as Valdur greeted them.

Elorhir bowed low and humbly. "It is an honour to meet you. Though I do not know your names I know your chain, or one like it and would like to commend on the mastery of it, an identical one saved the headmaster's life." Elrohir did not clarify further but figured the gnome would know who he was talking about.

"May I introduce ourselves. Valdur and Kyratan and myself Elrohir Gildor of GDI. Lastly the Lovely lady Sorrel whom had been gracious enough to offer her perfect services to me in a case I am working on". The old elf decided that a cover story which is close to the truth might be a better start than introducing themselves as the SSTF to relatively unkown and powerful strangers.



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  #130  
Old 06-10-2019, 12:30 PM
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Ashele Orome
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Ash watches with a smile as the child runs away with her gold piece. Touching her chest, she transforms her clothes into a threadbare woolen dress, with ripped white bonnet. Long gloves with the fingers cut out. No shoes. Of her original clothing, only her scarf remains unchanged, standing out a bit from the rest of her outfit. A little dirt from the side of the road is appropriated and applied to her face. She uses some of her rope to provide a strap so that basket can be propped in front of her, leaving her hands free and concealed. It takes some work to get (which would have been easier if her neck wasn't so sore)the setup right. Turning over her pack, she takes out her manacles. "Silvana, would you like to hold some of my things for me? My rapier, bow, and pack are incompatible with this disguise." Her daggers were concealed enough to escape all but the most critical eye, and if they were noticed, well, it wasn't that uncommon for poor people to carry knives.

Those were certainly some strange kittens. "Drea, what is the deal with those? Are they some sort of magical experiment or something?" Ashele chuckles a bit, then whispers something to detective Tuson. "We should work out some basic hand signals." With a motion of her hands and an arcane word, a mage hand spelltranslucent pink hand materializes, floating in the air in front of the detective. "Look back fondly on this day. I know it's not very often that a woman ASKS you to hold her hand! Okay, this finger " - the pinkie finger of the hand shoots out - "Means that she's here, come in and arrest her. This indexfinger means that her associates are present and I have obtained evidence against them, come in and arrest them all. This ring fingerfinger means I need immediate assistance and am in peril. And this middle fingerfinger means keep the hells out and give me more time."

Staking out the clinic, Ash feels the time slipping away. It was time to get this over with. "Sylvana, I'm going to need as detailed of a description of our drowess as you can provide. Actually, I think we can do one better than that. Drea, you offered to cast an invisibility spell, right? If you can make Sylvana invisible, she can enter with me. Heck, if you have a second invisibility spell you could come along too. Do either of you want my manacles? I thought I could hide them in my waistband, but they're pinching me... Alright, if nobody has anything else, I'm going to go stand in line."

While she stands in line, she makes a nuisance of herself, hawking her vegetables to the others in line. Eventually she makes it to the front and is called in. On entering, she she's keeping the door open for a few extra seconds, to give time for invisible people to entermakes a show of having trouble adjusting her eyes to the darkness. Approaching the Dragonborn, Ash stares at the floor, avoiding eye contact. She hesitates a bit before mumbling, "Please maam... my neck hurts." She looks nervously around the room, not wanting to take off her scarf if anyone else is present.

 


 

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  #131  
Old 06-11-2019, 02:39 AM
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Drea nuzzles the kitten that spoke, then continues to pet it the rest of the way to the scene.

Once at the stakeout, Drea leaves the kittens inside the cab, again. "They are Master Fregar's kittens." she says in answer to Ashelle, as if it was perfectly normal for kittens to speak common. "I think he has been teaching them to repeat things they have heard." she looks to Ash, only to notice the High Elf was already talking to Detective Tuson, and looks away.

She waits in silence, to be of use. And it's not a long wait this time. Drea perks up as Ash asks her to cast invisibility on Sylvana... and offers to let Drea come along. She tries to hide the swell of joy that threatens to overcome her as she bounces up onto her feet. "Yes, yes. I can!" she blurts out.

Without being asked further, she pulls out a piece of gum arabic. She holds the Material Component overhead, and whispers softly. "Hide!, for two.", then quickly touches her hand to Assuming she is allowed to, of course.touch Sylvana, then touches Using the Twin Spell Metamagic for 1 Sorcery Point. Also,
Dice Wild Magic Surge:
1d20sch1 18
her own self with the now empty other hand. Assuming nothing goes wrong with the casting, they should both be invisible now.

 

 

 
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  #132  
Old 06-11-2019, 03:58 AM
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Pulling strings
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Silvana was so deep in thought considering the strings connecting all that the team had learned so far. Some strings were bound to be false leads that would need to be disproven and discarded during the course of their investigation. Sadly they would need time to accomplish that, but with an investigation of this magnitude and importance, they couldn't afford to leave any loose ends. All they could do was use their better judgement to decide which strings to pull and which to leave for later.

The gunsmith realized they were nearing the location only when Ash asked her to hold on to some of her belongings that would not work well with a disguise she was working on to use in her infiltration of the clinic. "Yes, of course, I'll hold on to those for you." The tiefling accepted the items and carefully stowed them on her person. The bow was an awkward mix with her firearms, but it would have looked even more weird if she had a Badnews model on her back. As it stood her level of firearms knowledge only allowed her to create pistols.

When Ash asked for a detailed description of their mark she simply pulled out the sketch and held it aloft for all the group to see. "This is the most detailed sketch I've ever made and I couldn't describe her likeness better with words even if I tried to." Silvana listened to the plan to become invisible and join the young elf inside the clinic and simply nodded when she saw Drea hover a hand hesitantly near her to cast the spell that probably required touch. "I have my own set of manacles." The gunsmith answered Ash as she followed the transformed elf, keeping an eye out for 20 (not natural) on perceptionanything suspicious.


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  #133  
Old 06-11-2019, 07:46 AM
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Kytaran Finuthin
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Kytaran doesn’t respond when Keith, rightly, says he assumes that the elf would sacrifice the non-elf members of the taskforce without blinking to save the lives of elves. There is no need to respond. Keith knows this to be true and unless Elrohir is a fool, and Kytaran knows he isn’t, the old elf knows as well.

As Keith drains his glass and agrees to the proposal set forward by the two elf detectives, Kytaran nods. ”We have an agreement. You can contact…” he begins, but as the strange couple enters the café and the Clasp-members stampede out he stops abruptly. No matter. The tabaxi will know where to find them. At all times, most likely.

The bladesinger stays seated and watches the newcomers. He isn’t familiar with them as such, but even though he doesn’t know who they aren’t really trying to hide what they are. The chain around the gnome’s neck marks him as a powerful magic user and the woman’s scars and choice of dress makes it clear that she is both rich and most likely a skilled swordfighter. As they enter, the woman whispers something to someone who doesn’t follow them inside, a fact Kytaran doesn’t fail to take notice of.

Although Kytaran is quite comfortable dealing with the Clasp and other elements of the underworld, he is wary of engaging with obviously powerful citizens whom he doesn’t recognize. He stays seated, leaving it to Lady Sorrel and Elrohir to tackle the newcomers. He is content to listen, for now, ready for trouble in case the odd couple decide to use something other than words in dealing with the investigators.

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  #134  
Old 06-13-2019, 01:56 AM
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Chapter 2 – Unkind Kindling 14th of Quen’pillar - Noon
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As Sorrel's song came to an end, the proud woman stood silent for a moment, contemplating the falling petals and sighing ever so slightly before offering a polite clap and calling for the kenku. As she did, the gnome said "Beautiful, and I'd dare say almost perfect, but not quite a match. Were you expecting something more like this, Lina?" while flicking his wrists and instantaneously turning the cherry blossoms into black rose petals, willing them to dissipate before they touched the ground. Only then did he join his companion with a more lively applause, before turning to the two gentlemen that had addressed him directly. "Name's Wann, Pallurd Wann. Hero of Greenest if that means anything to you. I don't know if your Clasp friends knew that, but more than likely they ran because I turned the last couple fellas they sent to tail me into garden decoration. You say you are from GDI? I was just reading about your antics on the morning paper, almost choked on my coffee when I realized the attack on the lyceum wasn't a one-off. Am I to assume this scene was some sort of follow-up after yesterday's events? It looked awfully civilized if that's the case, maybe I should try talking things over next time around, I bet they'd like to have their friends de-statued in any case." The old gnome finished with a chuckle and a wink, just in time for his drink to arrive and the lady Lina to pass something to the feathered bartender before facing the group and speaking her own mind: "You may call me Lina. I am no hero, but you may know me for the humble theater just outside the eastern walls that shares my name, where I hope to listen to this talented lady performing an encore concert sometime soon." She added with a gentle smile and a simple bow towards the tiefling performer. "I don't know much about dealings with the Clasp and was merely showing an old friend around the city before a meeting he'd come to attend. About that Wann, when did Rascal said he'd be expecting you?"

"Oh, there's no need to hurry. The little sheriff will let me know as soon as he's got some time to spare, and I was hoping we could visit Thurmond after this anyways." The mysterious Wann replied while waving his hand dismissively and sipping his ice-cold tea with an annoyed expression, muttering something under his breath akin to "Not a hero? How about a champion then?" But it didn't take long for his demeanor to sweeten again, and as the detectives' eyes were still focused on his chain, his sly smile returned as he raised it to the level of his eyes and entoned a couple words in a language none of you could understand, causing the golden links to shimmer for a moment as a shifting pendant appeared hanging from them, first displaying the face of a white owl, then a golden harp, and later tree purple eyes enveloped in runes, before finally assuming the more recognizable form of the Arcana Pansophical's ever-watching emblem. "This chain? It means that blasted fool messed up so bad that Eskil and I had to come out of retirement, other than that its just a nifty trinket that protects us Makers from most immediate harm and prying eyes. A gift from Enchanter Yurek, who wished to be the only one who could claim such a feat."

The old gnome made a stern face as he finished saying this, and then snorted with mischievous laughter as he dissipated the symbol and left the chain rest against his robes once more. A surprisingly calmed kenku bartender then took the opportunity his pause provided in order to approach the tables again, offering the detectives a refill on their coffee and setting two matching tin cups before both the ladies, sprinkling a pinch of cinnamon over the steaming hot chocolate Ms. Harshwinter had asked for. As he did, she rested her hands against the warm metal with a thankful expression and mentioned before taking a sip: "Then we'll not take long, the temple should be opening its doors for visitors as we speak. It was truly a blessing meeting you here Lady Sorrel, and I am serious about wishing to have you play in one of my productions. If you have the time to spare, I'd love to discuss this in private. Perhaps tomorrow night after rehearsal hours?"

right-aligned image
The clinic that awaited for them to step into seemed old and cluttered. The walls were lined by medicine cabinets and low archives filled to the brim with patient files. The small stone tiles of the floor had been worn down by countless feet, and a small and rusty wheel-chair held the only potted plant that brought some life to the dim room: a wild maidenhead fern, nearly 3 ft. wide, resting in a corner. There was barely enough room for the doctor to seat at the a small desk that rested against the left wall, covered with bottles and boxes of medicine and assorted papers, a tall wooden stool with mismatched coloured legs for the oncoming patients to sit as they were diagnosed, and a medical bed with cracked tan leather acting as the center piece for the doctor's appointments.

In a city with easy access to divine intervention and magical healing, it wasn't common to see many practicioners of the medical sciences, but it was clear that Dr. Luminaar'a had been serving the people of the slums for many years now, despite her small clinic being less than an hour's walk from the temple district. Not quite looking up at Ash, the golden dragonborn opened a small drawer and retrieved a clean piece of paper, where she began scribbling her new patient's information. "I need to ask you some questions before we start, don't worry if you can't write, I'll take care of the file myself. Please give me your name, race, and age first. I'll be taking your measurements after that: height, weight and temperature. There's a rack by the door where you can leave your scarf since I need to take a look at your neck. Now tell me, have you suffered any notable injuries in the last couple days? What do you do for a living? How long has the pain lasted? Do you have any means to pay for treatment?" She said this in a tired, smoky, and professional tone, her sharp green eyes finally greeting the woman standing before her as she readied her only hand, scaled and deft, to take notes.

It wasn't particularly easy to move around such a stuffed place, but the invisible detectives managed as they squeezed around the room taking in what they saw. There were two doors to the left side, one clearly locked and labeled "Storage", and another one, slightly ajar and letting out a strong aroma of disinfectants that had a sign hanging on the doorknob, currently reading: "No procedures underway." On the right there was a set of double doors with a similar sign, this one saying: "Do not disturb, patients resting." There was one last opening on the furthest wall from the entrance of this windowless room: a partition on the wall, covered only by a curtain made of a thousand different coloured beads, and that seemingly separated the clinic's tiled floor from Dr. Luminaar'a's own home. Past the curtain, you could barely distinguish the voice of a little girl chatting away with someone, seemingly a woman.

In that moment, all of you also hear in your mind the clear and to the point psychic message of officer Tuson, informing you of the situation outside: "There are still about five people in line, so let's try to avoid any fire-balls from going off near the entrance. My men are already surrounding the clinic. The building has a single floor, and only the side-rooms have any windows, all barred up from what we've seen, so if we need to charge in we'll have to use the same entrance you just walked through. We know there's another one on the opposite end of the building but it seems to be locked, I'll keep an eye for anyone trying to go in or out through it, but wont approach until I get the go-ahead from you inside. Good luck in there, detectives."

 

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Last edited by Jim Faindel; 06-15-2019 at 04:29 PM.
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Old 06-13-2019, 05:52 PM
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Well, there wasn't any dark elves in this room. Ash briefly glances around, before deciding that she'd most likely be in the area where the patients were resting. Turning back as doctor Luminaar'a begins peppering her with questions, she does her best to answer her and allow her to take measurements. "I'm Ashbur. I'm an elf, and I'm 80 years old, or thereabouts. Don't know exactly. I sell carrots, apples and the like for coin. I have a few coppers, although if you accept payment in kind..." She waves at the produce in her basket.

Upon hearing Tuson's voice in her head, she turns away and stares out the window, acting distracted. Did he really have to do that right now? Ashele gives a sigh and shakes herself. For this next part, it wasn't important that Luminaar'a believe her, in fact, it would be better if she saw the lie as obvious. Therefore Ash averts her gaze from the woman and stares at the floor, folding and unfolding her hands nervously. "Last night, I tripped down some stairs, and that's how I hurt my neck." Biting her lip, she takes of her scarf and puts it on the rack, revealing the marks on her neck that certainly did not come from falling down stairs. "Please maam, I can't afford medicine, but if you have somewhere safe where I could rest a little and do some thinking, I'd be much obliged."

 

 

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Last edited by anamiac; 06-13-2019 at 06:23 PM.
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