H.M.Gimlord
Explorer
Professor Masetin sees the party to the gate, from which they proceed back through the streets to the gatehouse, where Fenkton is posted. As they enter and approach the room in which they were initially briefed, they hear voices. One of them is Fenkton. The other is low, and sounds rather angry, "The people are not impressed by Ekton's lack of progress. It's been nearly four weeks since Lord Hallmaster and our Master Armorer have gone missing, and he has yet to turn over the slightest evidence concerning their whereabouts."
"Please, Lord Astrix," Fenkton's voice is calm, but fearful, "We need more time. We've found five helpers from abroad who can...oh, here they are." Fenkton turns to the group as they enter. He is overshadowed by a large human, dressed in shiny, gray leather. The man's six foot-eight-inch frame looms over the watchman like an enormous shade tree. "Hello. I trust that your return means you've found something. Any progress?" Fenkton asks hopefully.
"As a matter of fact," Mab speaks for the group, "We have been interviewing Professor Masetin, and going through Professor Aramista's things, and we have reason to suspect that the thieving gang, recently exposed in the inn's cellar, might have something to do with the professor's disappearance. Would you be so kind as to take us there?"
The "Aren't you going to introduce us?" the tall man booms.
Fenkton jumps at the man's voice, "Oh, of course." the watchman turns back and forth between the big man and the adventurers, "Friends, this is Lord Vythdar Astrix, Peoples Council to Lord Ekton. Lord Astrix represents the interests of the citizens of Rioc Alair before Lord Ekton's court."
The big man nods to the group, "Fenkton has told me that you are investigating the persons who have gone missing of late," he stares each of the five down, "I trust that you will not disappear as did the last group of 'investigators'." He pauses to let the words sink in, "You do realize, of course, that this cellar has been looked over several times. Of course, no one has remained in town long enough to report on anything they've found. Good day." With that Lord Astrix takes an abrupt leave, ducking his head as he exits the doorway to the briefing room, calling back, "Good luck with your investigation," not bothering to look back over his shoulder as if disgusted with the conversation.[sblock=Luinnar, please read]Draglin seems to find Lord Astrix's name a little odd, almost familiar, like a play on words. 'Astrix" seems to refer to stars, but with a subtle Draconic twist[sblock=Insight DC 25]Draglin repeats the name out loud several times an realizes that 'Vythdar Astrix' sounds exactly like 'Vyth Darastrix' which means 'Steel Dragon' in Draconic: An odd name for a human living in such a racially homogeneous city.[/sblock][/sblock]Fenkton sighs as the big man leaves, "You'll have to excuse Lord Astrix. It is his job to see that the people of the city are taken care of, and he's under immense pressure to resolve this issue of missing persons." The watchman's eyes shoot up as he remembers Mab's request, "Oh. Of course I can take you to the inn." Right this way.
Fenkton leads the group out of the room and through the double gates, and out into the bustling shantytown that surrounds Rioc Alair's outer walls. The goup needs not look to hard to find The Crystal Mug. It perches on a precipice overlooking the harbor with a gabled wall painted to advertize its presence. The street-facing walls of the inn are wrapped about by a planked porch, and the main entrance is overhung by a placard depicting golden ale erupting foamily from a translucent tankard. The sounds of music, laughter, clanking mugs, and jovial conversation (as well as the occasional drunk) spill from the door and windows and out into the street.
As the group steps up onto the porch, Fenkton produces a scroll from a shoulder-bag he is carrying at his side. It reads:The scroll is signed 'Emril Ekton' and bears a rather ornate seal.
Fenkton shrugs sheepishly, "It's what he does when he can't spare a formal entourage. As it is, I have to return to my post, but this letter should get you anywhere in the city." With that, the junior watchman turns and makes his way through the crowded streets, back to the gatehouse.
The laughter and tavern noises come to an abrupt halt as the odd fivesome enter the common room of The Crystal Mug. A tankard might have lighted on a table, or a whisper might have passed from one patron to another, but for the most part the only the sound of the traffic from the street is audible. All eyes in the common room follow the party as they make their way to the bar, their footfalls raising dust from the floor and producing a seemingly thunderous 'clunk' with every step.
Upon reaching the bar, they are approached by a young gentleman in an apron, barely in his twenties, attempting to lighten the atmosphere with a friendly smile, however forced, "What'll it be sahrs?"
"Please, Lord Astrix," Fenkton's voice is calm, but fearful, "We need more time. We've found five helpers from abroad who can...oh, here they are." Fenkton turns to the group as they enter. He is overshadowed by a large human, dressed in shiny, gray leather. The man's six foot-eight-inch frame looms over the watchman like an enormous shade tree. "Hello. I trust that your return means you've found something. Any progress?" Fenkton asks hopefully.
"As a matter of fact," Mab speaks for the group, "We have been interviewing Professor Masetin, and going through Professor Aramista's things, and we have reason to suspect that the thieving gang, recently exposed in the inn's cellar, might have something to do with the professor's disappearance. Would you be so kind as to take us there?"
The "Aren't you going to introduce us?" the tall man booms.
Fenkton jumps at the man's voice, "Oh, of course." the watchman turns back and forth between the big man and the adventurers, "Friends, this is Lord Vythdar Astrix, Peoples Council to Lord Ekton. Lord Astrix represents the interests of the citizens of Rioc Alair before Lord Ekton's court."
The big man nods to the group, "Fenkton has told me that you are investigating the persons who have gone missing of late," he stares each of the five down, "I trust that you will not disappear as did the last group of 'investigators'." He pauses to let the words sink in, "You do realize, of course, that this cellar has been looked over several times. Of course, no one has remained in town long enough to report on anything they've found. Good day." With that Lord Astrix takes an abrupt leave, ducking his head as he exits the doorway to the briefing room, calling back, "Good luck with your investigation," not bothering to look back over his shoulder as if disgusted with the conversation.[sblock=Luinnar, please read]Draglin seems to find Lord Astrix's name a little odd, almost familiar, like a play on words. 'Astrix" seems to refer to stars, but with a subtle Draconic twist[sblock=Insight DC 25]Draglin repeats the name out loud several times an realizes that 'Vythdar Astrix' sounds exactly like 'Vyth Darastrix' which means 'Steel Dragon' in Draconic: An odd name for a human living in such a racially homogeneous city.[/sblock][/sblock]Fenkton sighs as the big man leaves, "You'll have to excuse Lord Astrix. It is his job to see that the people of the city are taken care of, and he's under immense pressure to resolve this issue of missing persons." The watchman's eyes shoot up as he remembers Mab's request, "Oh. Of course I can take you to the inn." Right this way.
Fenkton leads the group out of the room and through the double gates, and out into the bustling shantytown that surrounds Rioc Alair's outer walls. The goup needs not look to hard to find The Crystal Mug. It perches on a precipice overlooking the harbor with a gabled wall painted to advertize its presence. The street-facing walls of the inn are wrapped about by a planked porch, and the main entrance is overhung by a placard depicting golden ale erupting foamily from a translucent tankard. The sounds of music, laughter, clanking mugs, and jovial conversation (as well as the occasional drunk) spill from the door and windows and out into the street.
As the group steps up onto the porch, Fenkton produces a scroll from a shoulder-bag he is carrying at his side. It reads:
"By order of Lord Ekton, Governor of Rioc Alair, all who read this message are to provide the five who bear it with unrestrained cooperation. They are hereby permitted to carry weapons and perform any tasks as necessary to achieve their ends. Anyone found to have hindered their investigations will be punished to the fullest extent of the law, up to and including execution."
Fenkton shrugs sheepishly, "It's what he does when he can't spare a formal entourage. As it is, I have to return to my post, but this letter should get you anywhere in the city." With that, the junior watchman turns and makes his way through the crowded streets, back to the gatehouse.
The laughter and tavern noises come to an abrupt halt as the odd fivesome enter the common room of The Crystal Mug. A tankard might have lighted on a table, or a whisper might have passed from one patron to another, but for the most part the only the sound of the traffic from the street is audible. All eyes in the common room follow the party as they make their way to the bar, their footfalls raising dust from the floor and producing a seemingly thunderous 'clunk' with every step.
Upon reaching the bar, they are approached by a young gentleman in an apron, barely in his twenties, attempting to lighten the atmosphere with a friendly smile, however forced, "What'll it be sahrs?"
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