D&D 5E Hold Back The Night [IC]

[tglassy]

The song broke Teryn out of his reverie, and drew him to another world, another time. A time when he and Freya had been young, and more than a little wild. She used to sing. Never professionally, not like Lorelai, but it was a sweet voice, with a light accented twill to her voice that always set his blood boiling.

He remembered stealing away with her into dark alleyways and the secret places they had each found in their youth, sharing their secrets and their plans, and more. He remembered how she made him feel free and young and alive. Her family didn't like him, but it didn't matter. She liked him.

He liked Lorelai, she was a sweet girl, but Teryn would give a thousand Lorelai's for one more chance to hear Freya sing.

After the song was over, he looked down and realized his bottle was almost empty. Where had the last third gone? He swigged the last bit from the bottle, then slammed it on the counter. "Barkeep. I'm going to need another bottle, tonight."

 

[Quickleaf]

[SECTION]The gnome didn't want to be transported, didn't want the edges of his eyes to water or his bulbous nose to flush, but then one didn't always get what one wanted in The City. My only hope. It was a timeless illusion, that the bardess was singing to him. Of course, Fitz knew that wasn't the truth, but he couldn't snap himself out from under the spell until the song had ended, his fingers twitching over the rag-wrapped bundle he carried. His look of wonderment led to him mumbling to himself and looking down at his lap in a slouched posture. "Well, that wasn't wasn't awful, was it? " He intoned in a nasal voice, though whether it was meant for himself or for Teryn was hard to tell.

His eyes darted once more over to Lorelei, but the gnome's haunted past with her make it hard for him to start a proper conversation. Certainly, he could talk about last week's doorman falling for Fitz's little prank, or about the recent developments at the Velvet Rose with the man picked up by the authorities, or about any number of trivial thing which filled the awkward silence of his guilt.

Instead, he caught a boy ( [MENTION=4936]Shayuri[/MENTION] ) who he'd seen before, the one with the eyes wise beyond his years. Clicking his tongue at the boy – a common gnomish means of expressing approval, derision, or simply to get someone's attention, depending on the moment – Fitz, raised his bushy grey brows. "You there, lad, come hither," he whispered so Lorelei couldn't hear. "I've a parcel for you to deliver. To yonder lady," he nodded in Lorelei's direction, oblivious to the ridiculous fact that she's just down the bar. "It's very important business of the house, you see. If you're swift about it, and don't look in the bundle, I'll pay you this iron bolt," Fitz held up a strangely coiled iron bolt with a geomantic symbol on the bolt head, "taken from an iron golem forged at the City's founding. You'll be the talk of the local boys, eh? What do you say?"

For all of Fitz's 67 years, he was but a child compared to the boy called Grandfather.[/SECTION]

OOC: The bundle contains a small lacquered rosewood music box operated by two brass cranks one on either end. If the left crank is turned forward the top opens up and a female folk dancer emerges from the opening box to sing soprano "if I had a swan, I'd kiss my prince so merry." If the right crank is turned forward a bear wearing a fez emerges to sing bass "if I had a swan, I'd sup like kings of faerie." If either crank is turned backwards, however, a swan emerges to sing in a lilting falsetto voice "away, away, I to my swan aerie, far from dancers and from bears, the one is far too hairy."

 

[Shayuri]

The boy, in his early teens by the look of him, with the sort of too-tall rangy scruffy look that humans tended to get when they were that age, looked at the parcel, then at the bolt...and finally at the gnome. His expression was one of irritation.

"So," he said, his tone far too gruff for his years, "You want me to take this to her," he motioned with his head towards Lorelei. "And if I do it quickly and discretely, I'll get a piece of trash. Is that right?"

"Keep the bolt."

And with that he reached out and undid the ties holding the wrapping in place around the parcel. Perhaps out of pity for the gnome, or perhaps simply indifference, he doesn't move to start the revealed music box up. He does squint at it slightly for a moment.

"Yes...clever hands, foolish hearts. Nice to see gnomes never change."

 

[Quickleaf]

[SECTION]Trying, and failing to cover the wrapped bundle back up, Fitz muttered in frustration at the brazen boy. "Yes, well, I'll just keep this iron bolt, yes I will. It's a fine memento," he said testily. At least the music box wasn't dashed upon the ground like the city watch did last week. Humans and their love of destroying things. "It's rosewood, from the last of the rosewood trees" he said quietly about the box intended for Lorelei. "Gnomes older than I say they used to grow in the groves to the north, but no longer."

Fitz blinked at the boy's quip. "Well, we gnomes also are superlative at laying curses. Isn't that right, Teryn?" He deadpanned, lying poorly. "Why just the other year I cursed a lad who tried to steal a package he 'twas to deliver for me. No matter where he went on these streets, he always ended up back at the same lamp post an hour later. You'll find him there today. Squeen the Lightboy, he's called..." His voice trailed off realizing the wise-eyed boy is unimpressed.

"Hmmph. What about for two silver coins?" He offered, resorting to negotiation. Humans were just as prone to bribery as gnomes after all, they just usually settled for a lower amount.[/SECTION]

 

[Shayuri]

"The last..." murmured the boy, reaching out to touch the music box again, with gentle fingers one might reserve for a loved one. "No, surely not. There were forests of them. A hundred feet tall, and spreading green shoulder to shoulder. They withstood fire and flood and plagues of beetles... So proud."

His eyes flicked back to the gnome and hardened.

"And now it is a trinket for a woman you don't even dare approach on your own feet. Two silvers, you say? Will that reimburse the world for what was taken from it? Will any amount of silver?"

 

[tglassy]

Teryn laughed. "Oh yeah, Gnomes are great with curses. Everyday since I've met you's been a curse, Fitz."

He eyed the boy. "Most boys your age would jump at having an opportunity to talk to Lorelei, whatever it was. You might not want to look a gift horse in the mouth."


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[Queenie]

Lorelei chatted amiably with various patrons of the Velvet Rose, from the lowliest of the low, those who had saved their wands (coppers) for months just to have one special night at the tavern, to those off duty guards who everyone recognized as dropping their elixirs (silvers) here left and right on a very regular basis. The bardess seemed to give the same brilliant smile to everyone she encountered, one of her gifts was making each person she spoke to feel important and special in their own ways. It was vital she not let any one person monopolize her time but she'd learned early on how to keep conversation moving to an end.



She also had a natural talent for spotting trouble and would interpose herself where she could even before it started. This would generally happen between workers and off duty guards who thought themselves higher than everyone else. Even if it was true, this was the one place people came to shed that feeling of oppression, at least give themselves the illusion of it for a short while. The only time this didn't work was of course when Absalom showed up, and in those cases, the crowds parted out of his way as soon as he walked in so he could get to the object of his obsession as quickly as possible. Thankfully he wasn't here tonight and everyone was breathing easier for it.



Lei's friend Rana was busy with her own clients at the very end of the bar, so rather than interrupt her, Lorelei left a soft kiss on the exotic elf's cheek as she sashayed past her, wine in hand. She'd speak to her when she wasn't busy with little ones and brutes.



She finally waved down Rashimi, who had been scurrying around nonstop. "Anything I can help with?" Lei asked, as she casually sipped her wine. She looked the half orc in the eye to ask an unasked question.



"No, no, not tonight, you are just fine tonight." The poor woman looked a little harried, and who could blame her with the crowd.



Lei's smile grew wider. "Very well, I'm on my own. I actually enjoy these kind of nights, my friend." She patted the larger woman on the shoulder. "Do let me know if you actually need my help. I'll do my part from the stage."



With that she turned back to the crowded room, sipped her wine and scanned it. There was no obvious need of her, yet.



She returned to the bar, near Rana, and leaned forward over it, resting her elbows upon the worn wood. It was a safe place to stand, after all.


"Manen go-yes, nur?"* the redhead says in perfect elvish. *how goes it, friend?








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[Jago]

The Velvet Rose's familiar calm and comfort was suddenly and irrevocably destroyed as the door opened to hush the room. In the entryway stood a tall, pale Hobgoblin, wearing the blackened armor of a Guard Captain. The survivor of many scraps against those fellow Hobs that tried to challenge his authority, as well as the pitiful fools that though to take a swing at him, Captain Okten bore a severe scar atop his bald crown, leading all the way down to a cloudy eye that had long since lost its ability to see. Despite that, Okten was a shrewd Hob, stepping into the Rose with a glaring red gaze around the room to take everything in at once, from patron to performer and more. Flanking him were six fellow soldiers, these humans decked in the familiar crimson and gold of The Guard, the ever-watching Eye of The Magi emblazoned upon their breastplates.

” Citizens. I beseech your attention,” Okten growled, his voice suffering from an old throat wound. He already had all eyes upon him, but there was a certain satisfaction he derived from asking what he knew was already given.

” His Eminence, Ordinator Absalom, has recently become aware of a seditious element within this establishment,” he explained, walking up towards the bar itself and staring down Rashimi. For her part, the Half-Orc tried to avert her eyes and dip her head, only for Okten to suddenly lash out his hand and grasp her face, forcing her to lock her gaze with his own.

” It appears that your little whorehouse had someone bold enough to criticize the Magi in the open.”

” I-I threw him out last nigh--” Rashimi tried to explain, clearly in pain as Okten's claws dug into her cheeks and cut her off.

” And the Ordinator is most pleased with your loyalty,” the Hobgoblin said with dripping venom, finally letting the woman go and giving her a light slap where he had drawn a touch of dark blood. Rashimi kept her head up and tried to not show pain before the Captain, which Okten seemed to respect enough to turn his back and address the room.

” But under the … care, of Ordinator Absalom, this terrorist has revealed that he was planning to meet someone here tonight to attempt something even worse than slander. As you all know, it is every Citizens' responsibility to turn over those with treasonous intent, so if anyone with information could just speak up ..?”

Okten waited the appropriate amount of silence before clasping his hands together and motioning to his men. The humans drew the longswords at their sides and motioned for the patrons to stand and get themselves against the wall. It seemed as if one drinker, a Dwarf, had it in his head to do something about this, for when they came for him he stood but refused to move. Before the inevitable scuffle could break out, however, the blonde Dwarf stared at the four blades surrounding him and sighed, downing the rest of his tankard and shuffling off with the rest to line up against the stage.

” Surely this isn't necessary?” Rashimi tried to reason with the Captain, earning herself a swift glower.

” My dear half-blood,” Okten began, still keeping up the learned language of someone who spent some time in The Towers despite his fearsome appearance, ” The execution of the law, and the execution of traitors, is always necessary. And if it comes out that your building is harboring rebels?”

He left the threat unsaid while turning his attention to directing the orderly detaining of The Rose and her patrons. Once he was out of earshot, Rashimi quickly whispered to those at the bar, those whom destiny had marked for just such a day.

” Quick, while he's distracted: trapdoor behind here, go, go,” she whispered, catching the eyes of Lorelei and Rána especially before moving off to argue more with Okten and keep him from nabbing everyone within The Rose all at once.

 

[Quickleaf]

[SECTION]Fitz winces as soon as he hears the articulated 'Tower-speak' of the hobgoblin captain. It reminds him of the mages, as if their paranoia, their affected mannerisms, their thoroughly parochial view of The City's inhabitants could infect even the most unlikely of creatures. He finishes wrapping up the music box, glancing wryly at the boy, "Well, I've always wondered where the name comes from. Hobbled goblins." His voice remains subdued, just for those at the bar to hear.

No brave hero, he. The first to enter what lies below. And the first to leave. Well accustomed to sneaking away and lurking at the periphery, Fitz is quick to follow Rashimi's instructions, scampering toward the trapdoor. He hesitates a moment, glancing back at the rest of the tavern with a wistful eye, and then awkwardly attempts to descend into the darkness.[/SECTION]

 

[Queenie]

Lorelei gritted her teeth. Not this again... so many people here. She shook her head to herself, Absalom would certainly be pleased with himself and she'd never hear the end of this.

She stood up straight from leaning on the bar, her friend still standing next to her. She placed a warm, comforting hand on Rana's arm but did not look too long in her eyes. "Linne- si,*" she spoke into her ear in quiet elvish. *go now

Not leaving her friend a space to answer, the bard walked slowly and deliberately out from behind the bar to the stage area, making sure to move her hips, using her costume to full effect, just to give those at the bar a few extra moments to escape.

"Is this quite necessary?" she asked calmly. "Captain Okten, don't you agree that our most excellent Eminence Absalom would not only like this information but enjoy the correct information as well? And scaring these poor people out of their wits isn't going to get you the correct information, now is it?"

She stopped in the middle of the room and looked at him expectantly. "Now where exactly did you want me?"



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