(Casual D&D II) The Fellowship of the White Dove

[Uriel]

Whistfully looking at the cad games, Niccolo realizes that he needs firstly, to execute Exantrius' will and secondly to help in the selling of these goods so as to get a grubstake.
Turning to Fendric after a lone ale, Niccolo says 'Well, old friend, it seems that we are nearer one step to putting Sir Exantrius to rest for good. Shall we find this Aesop Randoril?'
If Fendric hesitates a few moments, Niccolo will hastily order a second mug of frothing brew. A Gnome was, after all, a Gnome.

 

[dpdx]

Fendric turns back to his friend and replies, "Not yet, dear Niccolo. I wish to ascertain the nature of these letters, Pelor willing, before I deliver them to any other recipients. Fortunately, this should not take but a half-hour once I get a room and some privacy..."

Fendric absentmindedly searches his pouches for a gold to buy the room; finding none, he takes advantage of Niccolo's distractedness to pick up his pack and step outside, in search of a weaponsmith with whom he might barter.

 

[Guilt Puppy]

Downstairs:

Hiritus accompanies Fendric as he goes to sell off the weapons; he takes the liberty of inquiring with the innkeep about a nearby smith, and he points out Gilter, an far from shaven man sitting at one of the card tables.

"Weapons to sell?" he asks on your approach, not turning from his hand. "Just one second." He moves six large stacks of platinum forward, his eyes fixed on the gnome sitting across the table. "You may have caught me at a very good or a very bad time for that, depending on what Ghant here shows..."

Upstairs:

It takes a bit of a wait for Niccolo to get his brew -- Mengan's quite busy with other customers, one of whom stands out: A man in his middle thirties, wearing fine chainmail, his long brown hair tied back neatly, a tightly kept beard on his face. Though world-weary and even a bit out of shape, there's still something almost radiant about him... It's hard to decide if he seems more like a younger Exantrius, or an older Hiritus -- perhaps he's simply somewhere between the two.

(Niccolo should make Spot & Listen checks at this point.)

The bath:

The room is full and alive with conversation, arguments definitely. Three older men, all showing scars and signs of wear themselves, are having a heated debate about a topic which may seem too familiar by this point: The wars to the East.

"...it would be a foolish waste. It's not our problem." ... "If they cross the pass, they'll hit Eivanrach first." ... "Then fight 'em when they get here, or move to Galmad." ... "They'll be stronger by the time they get here." ... "They'll be hurting. A week in those mountains takes a toll an army." ... "Maybe Cender should deal with the orcs?" ...

 

[dpdx]

"Oh, he's here, is he? Pelor be praised." Fendric says from under the doorway. Turning around, he accompanies Hiritus to where the barkeep pointed out Gilter.

As Gilter pushes his call bet forward, Fendric looks on, at once amused with and ignorant of the game going on before him. Of even more fascination is the size of the wagers - quietly he asks Hiritus, "That IS platinum they're playing with, is it not?", and upon hearing the affirmative, looks upon both gentlemen at the table with a visible expression of awe.

Waiting upon the showdown, Fendric continues conversationally, in Gilter's general direction, "We liberated these from a band of orcs that set upon us as we crossed the pass. Some are of crude manufacture, like you might expect from such a band of brigands, but some are most definitely of higher quality, as if they themselves had been taken from less fortunate groups than ourselves. I'm quite comfortable with the flail my Temple has given me, as are my companions with their weapons, and so to us they are weight, and hopefully coin.

I should hope to find the inside of a tub of hot water, and a softer bed than cave rock with it, the Radiant Light Willing. Anything else would be bounty, indeed. And if Eivanrach is to gird itself and stand together, one and all, against the menace that Exantrius knew to follow us when he was alive, these weapons might help to save this good city, E'er the Holy Light Reveal It To Be So."

Pausing after his soliloquy to note the cards now revealed upon the table, Fendric asks completely innocently, "So, is this a good time, or a bad time?"

 

[Guilt Puppy]

Downstairs:

Gilter and Ghant show their cards; smiling, the smith sweeps in his coins, then scoots his chair back an inch as he begins to stack and sort them. The others continue the game without him, for the time being, as he turns to look through Fendric's bundle.

"Hm... Mostly pretty shabby... though the full plate's not too bad... but..." His eyes widen a bit. "Wait a moment."

He pulls out one of the scythe-blades, looks at it under the candlelight.

"Nice. Very nice. Alerian steel, if I've ever seen it." He turns, looks Fendric straight in the eye. "Clean these up and mount them to a hilt, these would be worth 40, maybe even 45 plate to the right buyer. If you don't want to go to the trouble, I'll give you 20 each for 'em right now. Or..." he digs around again, counting in his head. "38... 39? Ah, make it an even 40 scales for the whole lot."

He waits for an answer, realizes you don't quite understand his offer.

"This," he says, pulling five coins from a stack of platinum, "is a scale. Sound fair?"

 

[Festy_Dog]

Nurthk shows interest the the old men's conversation.

"You think they'd be headed here?" he asks them.

Hmm, but who are 'they'?

 

[Uriel]

(Niccolo should make Spot & Listen checks at this point.)

<Spot 15,Listen 23>.

 

[Uriel]

Doing the math in his head...forty scales...each 20 platimum, 8000 Gold? Gods...'
Kicking Fendric gently under the view of those seated, Niccolo smiles genteely and awaits the answer from his companion, already wondering what he'd spend his share upon...

 

[Guilt Puppy]

Upstairs:

Before heading downstairs to catch up with Fendric, you overhear the knight's order: "Water silvered with raspberry." Moreover, there's something odd about the way he took the drink, as though he may have slipped something out from underneath...

(Man, I need to find time to get back to work on that Story Hour thread.)

The bath:

"You think they'd be headed here?" he asks them.

"Oh, of course," the loudest of the men answers. "They're headed everywhere else."

"Now maybe not!" the man to his right interrupts. "There's still no reason think Bethel has anything to do with them."

"Oh, true, true," says the man on the left. "But it still seems like quite a coincidence."

"Of course they're behind Bethel. "By the hells, I imagine they have agents here, right now, just getting things ready!"

"Nonsense and paranoia..." says the man on the right.

"But still, you can't be too careful!" ... "Doesn't mean you should waste your time." ... "Since when is a good defense a waste of time?" ...

 

[dpdx]

"Hm... Mostly pretty shabby... though the full plate's not too bad... but..." His eyes widen a bit. "Wait a moment."

He pulls out one of the scythe-blades, looks at it under the candlelight.

"Nice. Very nice. Alerian steel, if I've ever seen it." He turns, looks Fendric straight in the eye. "Clean these up and mount them to a hilt, these would be worth 40, maybe even 45 plate to the right buyer. If you don't want to go to the trouble, I'll give you 20 each for 'em right now. Or..." he digs around again, counting in his head. "38... 39? Ah, make it an even 40 scales for the whole lot."

He waits for an answer, realizes you don't quite understand his offer.

"This," he says, pushing together two stacks of platinum, twenty-give coins high, "is a scale. Sound fair?"

Fendric takes a second to count the platinum and do some quick math when he feels a small tap from Niccolo's direction. Fendric's response in that same direction is brief, but firm: "That is not helping."

Turning back to Gilter, he continues. "So if I understand you correctly, sir, a scale is... 25? platinum, and you are therefore offering us 40 scale, or 1000 platinum, for the lot, including the scrap weapons, the full plate, and the... Alerian? scythe blades.

I'm afraid we have no forge, more's the pity, and even if we did, a scant number among us could turn out weapons worthy of even the refuse you see before you, may the Radiant Light Bless It and Keep It and Use It for Beneficial Purposes and such...

Your offer sounds fair, and in fact, I am in no mood to dispute it even if it weren't, may the Light Guide My Judgement. Full plate is heavy, blades don't carry well without holsters, and 5000 platinum is, in fact, coin, so I would consider it sold to you for that amount. Hiritus, Niccolo, I presume you do not object?"