IC: Dichotomy's Age of Worms Redux, Part IV

[Dichotomy]

[sblock=OOC]Gather Info: 20+... I guess I'll give you something.[/sblock]
Erdolliel works the crowd while the others get to the back of the line. As long as the elf makes it clear that she's not trying to budge in line, the people are relatively free with their tongues

Erdolliel learns that during the day, the line is often twice as long as it is now. While the Free City is open to all travelers, the city militia has stringent laws against contraband (most notably drugs or any poison that causes CON damage). One merchant, while speaking to the elf, quickly closes his mouth mid-sentence. After a gentle prodding, he offers, "Well, lass... The guards question the common folk, but usually they just want to know your name and business in the city. But, you and your mates stand out. Shiny cloaks, fancy plate armor. Normal folk can't afford that, and the guards know it. So... you may need to grease the wheels, if you get my meaning."

Meanwhile, the lad responds to Bazrim's query. "I beg your pardon, master dwarf, but... There ain't none too many places with cheap rooms but decent ale. In the Free City, people either have the coin, or they don't."

"Leave it to our brilliant spellcaster to seek out all manner of oxymora. It's late in the day, but surely the man we came here to seek hasn't retired yet. And if he has, I see no reason to not wake him."

 

[TiCaudata]

"Aye Nethezar, this Eligos hopefully will have some place for us to rest, or know of a nearby inn at the very least. Let us track him down first. Boy! Do you know where a wizard by such a name resides?"

As the group nears the head of the line Erdolliel glowers slightly. "I suppose we should get some of our disposable income handy for a smooth entry..."[sblock=oc]I have 16 gold on me, but the treasure page says we have 3901. I'm not too sure how to go about bribing a city guard, I assume they'll give us flak and we'll give them money? I have a +0 in diplomacy...[/sblock]

 

[worthley]

"I assume the more coin you have, the harder it is for the guard to forget you entered.....Someone else should take over the barganning." Bazrim pauses for a moment before continuing. "And Erdolliel shouldn't either as the elf would have me destroy the stand with my fireball" The dwarf gives a hardy chuckle

 

[TiCaudata]

Erdolliel mutters something about the ease of gutting pigs.

 

[o3caudata]

Eskard stares in awe at the shear size of the city and the vast numbers of people. Blindly following his companions as the inch forward.

"How will we find someone in there..." he mumbles, faintly aware of the conversation happening around him.

[sblock=oc] i have a -2 diplomacy, but a +12 in 'negotiation' [/sblock]

 

[Dichotomy]

[sblock=OOC]Until further notice, I am NPCing Kushnak. I'm not going to wait for m_n to post, so none of you should either. Not even checking the board for over a week is not acceptable. I will attempt to play Kushnak true to the character, while simultaneously not treading too much on the toes of actual players. If one of you has a desire to play Kushnak instead of having me do it, speak up.[/sblock]
Kushnak takes in the city with a cool gaze, like a new challenge to be overcome. He clasps Eskard on the shoulder. "People clumped together can find each other. Right boy?" The half-orc turns to the lad. "Answer the question."

"Well, ummm..." the lad fumbles. "I don't know a wizard named Eligos. But... if he's one of them prominent-like folks, I bet he won't be hard to find." The lad speaks faster as he attempts to make sure the party knows he's not worthless. "I know right where to ask. It'll take no time at all!"

While the group has been focused on the boy, Nethezar has faded into the background, pulling up the hood of his cloak. You hear him mumbling a bit, and when you look again, the scholar cleric looks like a fat, old merchant. He has wrinkles and facial hair he never possessed before, and his plate armor has been replaced with frilly clothing.

"What?" Nethezar asks, nonchalantly. "A party of adventurers will attract attention. But an old merchant with enough coin to hire good bodyguards, and spare some for the gate guard, won't attract much notice... or disdain, for that matter."
[sblock=OOC]I'm going to fast-forward to the gate. Interject if you wish. We can also go back and add further conversation before reaching the gate, if you'd like. I'm trying to move the pace along.[/sblock]
After nearly an hour, you finally are at the gate. You've noticed that the peasant folk and simple merchants seem to pass through without trouble, however, just as portended, you receive a bit more scrutiny at the gate.

"Well what do we have here? Fancy folk here to spend their coin in the Free City," the guard calls from the gate. "Well, what's your business here? And be prepared to turn out your pockets."

Before anyone has the chance to speak up, Nethezar steps to the front of the group, still with the guise of an old merchant. "Andrew McDowell's the name, kindsir," he says with a bow and flourish. He continues on with a pace and tambre that quickens at an alarming rate. "And my business is my own... and that of good Lord Mackran of the higher wards districts. Milord does not take kindly to those that press. And press one might, if they knew not what they were doing. But Milord does, as do the good men at the gate, keeping the Free City safe. But we've got no contraband here. Taking goods out, exporting, is my business. My help here is the help of Milord, and he'd not want them accosted. You'llnotneedtocheckmycredentialsasLordMackran'supwiththefolksinchargeandthecaptain'sgiventheokayandwecanjustbeonourwayrightasrainandnofuss."
As he finishes, the cleric slides a few gold coins into the guard's hand. The guard looks flabbergasted a moment, but quickly regains his composure. He ushers the party in without another thought.

And while each of you know that Nethezar's words were complete falsehood, they almost made sense.

And, as easy as that, you are within the Free City.

The streets are cobble with well-worn stones and scored by deep wagon ruts. Throngs of people of all races, some bearing exotic raiment, crowd the streets, even at this hour. While merchants seem somewhat fewer than what one might expect during the day, it seems that night life is ready to start, and still not all the merchants have closed shop for the day. The air hangs heavy with the smell of civilization, the stench of sweat and refuse mixed with the aroma of food.

 

[worthley]

Bazrim savors the smell of food, and lets the stink of sweat pass him by. After the thoughts of roast meat and ale fill his mind, he snaps back to the task at hand, and starts maping the area in his head. He then looks at the others, "So, what's it going to be first, making some coin or finding our new friend?"

 

[TiCaudata]

Erdolliel watches Nethezar with awe. At Bazrim's words she scowls and rolls her eyes dismissively, "We have to get these documents to Eligos first. Our treasures and the lizardfolk embassy are not nearly as time sensitive.

Boy! Where can we start searching for this wizard?"

 

[Dichotomy]

"I know some people. Start heading that way," he gestures. "I'll catch up!"

Soon enough, the lad returns to the group. "This way. To the Garden District. Your friend must be... well... kind of rich."

When you reach the gate to the Garden District, the guards look at you with suspicion, but make no move to halt you. It is readily apparent that this area of the Free City is opulent. You reach the address matching what Allustan told you, guided by the lad's direction. A white stone wall surrounds a manicured yard of trimmed hedges and exotic fauna. A cobbled path, flanked by a pair of pools and rearing dragon statues, leads to a white marble manor house with gilded double doors and flickering golden lanterns. "I'll wait for you here," the lad says.

As you approach, the door opens as if you are expected. An aged elven manservant politely nods. After briefly ascertaining your business, he invites you inside, making no comment about the relatively late hour. You are escorted through the grand foyer, dominated by a marble staircase lined with suits of ancient armor, and topped by an ancient battle banner used as a curtain. Off to one side, a short hallway leads you to a parlor to wait. After serving fine wine, water, and fresh fruit, the austere manservant leaves you to wait for the sage. The parlor itself is lined with packed bookcases, oil paintings, furniture gilt with fine gold.

A few minutes later, a middle-aged man wearing an open red robe with a silver breastplate underneath enters the room. His eyes are sharp wells of deep gray accented by specks of red. His hair, red like the setting sun, shows the first signs of receding. "My manservant, Pollard, tells me that you wish to speak to me," he says in a calm, even voice. "My name is Eligos. How can I be of assistance?"

 

[worthley]

Bazrim in awe from the unusual entry and responce the group got. "Well, you seem to know quite a bit about our arrival by having the door open for us, I am surprised you didn't have trays of smoked meat and breads to quench our hungers."